


The Center of the Universe

by thegraeyone



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, NaNoWriMo, One Shot Collection, all the aus
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2020-02-05
Packaged: 2021-01-16 15:48:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 27
Words: 56,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21273701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegraeyone/pseuds/thegraeyone
Summary: For every sun and every moon that hangs in the sky, no matter the time nor place, two souls transcend the laws of physics, and in every universe, they find each other.A NaNoWriMo project. 30 days, 30 AUs, 30 times Joey Wheeler and Seto Kaiba find each other again.





	1. Spook-A-Rama (Vampire)

**Author's Note:**

> I decided I wanted to do something YuGiOh related for NaNoWriMo and I thought I'd fiddle with this concept. I made a list of AUs you can view over at [my twitter](https://twitter.com/thanksmokuba/status/1190305389260222465?s=20). First prompt is vampire, so I decided to start with something a little Halloween-y.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Halloween night on the boardwalk, and Seto Kaiba decides to have some fun.

Seto Kaiba pushed through the crowds of the boardwalk, picking up the cape of his costume as he weaved between superheroes and aliens and cat ear hoodies. Halloween had filled the local boardwalk with rambunctious teens and board adults. The day crowd of families was long gone, and now it was just the bright lights and tinny electronic sounds of nearby games and rides. Vendors leaned from their booths to entice the crowd. A group of girls giggled high pitched as they shot water guns into a clown’s mouth, and a loud popping noise told him someone at the dart toss was making headway. The smells were strong, from the hot dog stand to the funnel cake to the sticky sweet of discarded sodas and Halloween candy. The chaos of the boardwalk disappeared into the quiet of the beach. Bonfires littered the shoreline as people threw their own parties, hard to see as anymore than dark shapes dancing on the shore. The darkness ebbed in with the waves.

Seto had trick-or-treated with his little brother already today, and Mokuba was already complaining of a stomach ache before he’d dropped him at the house. They’d planned to go together to the boardwalk’s annual Spook-A-Rama, but now it was just him. Despite his costume, no one gave him a second glance as he walked past the familiar sights and sounds. He’d gone all out this year, with the purple pants and gold buttoned shirt tucked beneath a long cape that spiked at the shoulders. A pair of fake vampire fangs completed the look. His tongue pushed against one for the hundred time that night, but the putty held.

He moved past the carnival games with a smug knowledge that he knew all their tricks. Beside the midway was the arcade, bursting with screaming children, and his name on every single scoreboard inside. He paused momentarily at the gachapon machines, considering bringing Mokuba home something. He resolved to circle back around. He followed the pier where it turned to concrete, the path to the carnival rides. Simple things like tilt-a-whirls and the Ferris wheel careened overhead. Seto walked past them all, waiting for something to catch his eye.

Then, cutting through the noise like razor wire, was the high pitched sound of laughter. He turned. He saw them.

The kids who stood by the fun house entrance weren’t extremely remarkable. They didn’t wear costumes like everyone else. The tallest one stood with his hands tucked into a turquoise sweater, and the only girl among them was dressed up in a flared skirt and yellow top. The one laughing had dyed his hair with pinks and blond streaks that he spiked, and another wore a thick coat of eyeliner that sloped beneath their left eye. They wouldn’t look anymore out of place at the food court at the mall. There was nothing about them that really stood out, nothing that would stick, and yet Seto saw them. Exactly as he had last summer when the tourist season was high. Exactly as he had the winter before that, as they hung their feet over the edge of the pier to watch the cold waves. They were always here, five of them, laughing together well past the time the last carnival ride shut down.

They walked through the open maw of the fun house: a door decorated to be the smiling visage of a clown. An orange light burned inside, making the shadows sharp and hard to see through. Seto took a breath, and he followed. The railing inside wound up and down, a pattern meant to move a larger crowd. Their voices echoed through the empty space, but he couldn’t quite hear what they were saying. He didn’t know when he’d first noticed them, but they were there, out of the corner of his eye every time he and Mokuba trailed the boardwalk past sunset. Seto knew he was one to fixate, and he thought maybe he should let it go, but it was Halloween, and it was a mystery, and so he kept walking.

Despite the chaos outside, it was quiet in here. The electric bulbs hummed with orange light. The old rides were always in some state of disrepair, and the place smelled moldy and dank. He let his cape loose to trail behind him as his feet tapped against the concrete floor. The shapes of the other teens disappeared behind an archway into another chamber. Their laughter still echoed.

The opening led to the ride proper. Tiny cars, little tubs with four seats that wobbled on their track, made mechanical creaks as their ancient gears bumped and shuddered on rusted metal. The track kept turning, not stopping to let on passengers. The cars disappeared through a doorway into a dark hall. Old speakers played sounds of laughter and the odd scream beneath carnival music. A dark ride. Completely empty except for its attendant, who was looking bored on their phone, and the five teenagers who were climbing over the railing as they shouted to be let on. A lever was pulled. The cars slowed.

“Only four to a car,” the attendant said, not looking up. He wasn’t much older than they were, a scraggle of stubble across his week chin, a hat pulled down over greasy hair. “You can’t all get on.”

“Please?” the girl said, clasping her hands, and there was a chorus from the others: “Please? Please? Please?” The attendant was unmoved by their plight.

“Four to a car,” he repeated.

“I’m not goin’,” one of them said. Seto had never paid attention to them individually, but he saw now the rough New York accent came from the blond one. The others booed and laughed, but he kept his back straight and his chin high as he repeated, “I’m not goin’.”

“You don’t gotta be scared,” the tall one said, looping an arm around his buddy. “We’ll protect you.”

“I’m not scared,” he said. “It’s four to a car, like he said.”

“Oh, is that so?” The girl had stood up on the bar of the railing, her feet hooked in so she could lean over and implore the attendant. “Can it be two? Can two share?”

He shrugged, still not looking up. “That’s fine.”

“Look, Joey.” She pointed over his shoulder, to where Seto stood in the archway. “You don’t have to go alone. You can go with him.”

The chorus of giggles that erupted was unkind, and Seto felt the tips of his ears heat up at the sudden inclusion in their game. Joey, the blond, only looked at him, his expression between annoyed and anxious. The cars came to a stop, and the gate opened. The first four burst through before there was any chance to be included. They climbed into the car and yelled a the man to go. Lazily, he hit a button, and the cars shuddered to life.

Seto approached the front of the ride, where Joey remained. His friends hooted and called to him as their car jerked down the track. They disappeared through the curtain, still shouting. There was a crash of artificial thunder from the other side, and the white of a strobe light flashed against the wall. Joey flinched.

“I’m not scared,” he insisted.

Seto decided on an honest answer: “I don’t care.”

That didn’t seem to mollify him. More cars made their way shakily to the front of the line. A squeal echoed from the hall, and Seto wasn’t sure if it belonged to one of Joey’s friends or the ride itself.

“You getting on?” the attendant asked as the car steadied itself in front of them.

Joey looked at Seto. Seto looked at Joey. The gate opened.

“Fine,” Joey said, and again he said, “Fine.”

Whatever pulled Seto after them before continued as he followed him into the car. It rattled to life, twisting slightly with a mechanical tick. They passed through the curtain, and the fake thunder boomed through a speaker overhead, followed by a witch’s cackle. Around them was a diorama of a graveyard. Fake skeletons popped out to wave at them as a wind noise rushed through the speakers. Seto and Joey sat at the front of the car together, as much space as possible between them. Joey’s arms were crossed, but as the initial noise died away, he looked at Seto again.

“What’re you supposed to be?” he asked.

“I thought it was obvious.” He grinned wide to show off the fake teeth.

Joey snorted a laugh and shook his head.

“It’s better than no costume at all,” he said.

Another crash of thunder burst through the cardboard graveyard. A skeleton unconvincingly reached a hand out to touch the car. Joey inched away. In front of them was the thin sound of far off laughter.

“Get any good Halloween candy in that get up?” Joey asked.

Seto ignored him. A witch swooped overhead, really a black shadow followed by another cackle.

“Where are you friends?” Joey continued. “Did you come here alone?”

Seto stuck with honesty. “My brother was sick. I still wanted to come.”

“Spook-A-Rama.” Joey said it as a happy sigh. “It’s such a weird night. Everyone’s acting wild. I don’t know how anyone goes out tonight.”

The graveyard had turned into a pumpkin patch. Black cats perched on some of them, and the speakers played a yowling noise. A ghost popped up in front of them. Joey jumped. Seto laughed.

“I don’t know how you’re out tonight,” Seto said. “Aren’t you scared a witch will get you?”

Joey eyed him, scooting closer to the center of the car. “Maybe a vampire.”

“You’re really scared.” Seto barely noticed the spooks and haunts around them. “It’s a barely functioning ride.”

“These things creep me out.” He gave a theatrical shiver. “And I’m stuck in it with a stranger. You could be a murderer for all I know.”

“I could say the same for you.”

Joey grinned. Ahead of them the tunnel curved, and the dim atmosphere was cut by the harsh glare of a red light. A great opening threatened to swallow the car whole. As they came around the curve, a hiss sounded, and a number of plastic spiders dropped on strings to hover just above the car. Joey shouted and jumped to Seto, tossing his arms around him. Seto’s laughter was interrupted by Joey headbutting his chin, which clacked his teeth together. The putty in his mouth couldn’t hold, and a tooth dropped to the car floor. It landed somewhere in the dark.

Joey realized exactly what he’d done as soon as the scare passed, and he pulled away. Seto poked the now blank space in his smile with his tongue, stopping when he saw Joey was looking at him. The car became washed in the red light of the new tunnel. The music changed too, a deep throated laughter and high impish shouts climbing up beneath a wild carnival tune. Around them banners of red and orange fabric made fake flames, and the shadows of devils danced off the wall. Joey hadn’t actually moved away from him. Their knees were touching, their hips side by side. Joey was looking at him, and in the red light his eyes looked strange, like there was only the pinprick of a pupil in a sea of red.

“You’re not scared?” he asked, and his voice was hard to hear beneath the wild mechanical laughter. Fog billowed out from the displays, and it filled the base of the car.

Seto shook his head. “I like things like this.”

“I can tell.” His face lifted up. His lips parted in a grin. His teeth were uneven, and Seto could see two incisors a little longer than all the others. “You’re real into this Halloween stuff. You dressed up too. You were looking to scare someone.”

“Vampires aren’t scary,” Seto said.

Joey laughed at that, the same sort of raucous laughter he’d shared with his friends. His whole body was washed in the red light, his hands, his collar bones, his mouth, and for some reason it sent a strange shiver down Seto’s spine. His hands lifted up to tug at Seto’s collar. A spike of irritation was quickly replaced by something else as his fingers curled against the skin of his neck. Joey’s hands were cold, but they made Seto warm.

“You’re so brave.” Joey’s tone was mocking. “Is there anything you’re scared of.”

This situation was making his heart beat fast. There wasn’t anywhere to go away from Joey’s hands or his eyes or his smile. Seto didn’t move an inch, didn’t let himself. Joey’s gaze drew from Seto to Seto’s mouth, and there was a moment where he started to move forward, just enough. Seto held his breath in anticipation, too scared to back away, too scared to close the space himself.

The car made the choice for them, jerking forward so their foreheads knocked together, and then from above an animatronic devil stabbed a pitchfork down at them, whiffing five feet above anyone’s head. Joey still ducked down in the seat with a shout. Seto was pushed back, and he winced as he hit the metal side. They pushed through another set of streamers and found themselves back at the beginning. Joey’s friends were waiting, cheering as the pair of them came through. Their encouragement turned to laughter as his head lifted up, embarrassment clear on his face.

“Very brave,” Seto deadpanned.

“Shut up.” He waved dismissively at his friends before turning back to Seto. His smile had dimmed, and his eyes were their normal brown. Seto found himself staring into them, as though they would appear the way they had in the tunnel.

“You know,” Joey said as he tilted his head in consideration, “we go down to the beach after all the rides close. We like to hang out under the pier. You should find us later.”

Seto frowned. The boardwalk stayed open late, but the closer to midnight the more things shut down. The only reason to stay any later was to cause mischief and inevitably be chased off by the security guards. Joey’s smile promised trouble.

“What are you going to do?” Seto asked.

Joey shrugged, as though the answer was simple. “Have fun.”

He slid from the car to join his friends. They slapped him on the back and pinched his face. As Seto also lifted himself onto the walkway, he felt their gazes turn to him. The fake thunder sounded once more, and in the flash of light, their eyes were like bicycle reflectors, bright and round and yellow. Then, all at once, they ran off, leaving only the traces of their laughter behind.

Seto remained where he was. The cars kept turning behind him, the low creak and mechanical laughter still going. Logically, he knew he should turn back. It was getting late, and he should head home to his little brother, who was likely sound asleep, to rest up tonight so tomorrow they could eat candy together and watch cartoons until it was time to get dressed and go back to the pretending to be the people they had to be. But, another voice whispered to him, tonight was Halloween. Tonight was a night to be thrilled, and possibly chilled. The thrall of those five continued to call to him, drawing him out like the ebb and flow of the sea.

Seto adjusted his costume, fixing the collar and giving the missing tooth another disappointed poke, before he followed after.


	2. Out of Sight (Nocturnal Me)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joey takes a good look at Seto Kaiba and is surprised by what he sees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This AU is entirely esoteric to my dear friend [October](https://archiveofourown.org/users/coralmarrow/pseuds/coralmarrow)'s own AU, in which after being bitten by a werewolf he moves to a small Texas town where he meets several familiar faces, including Seto Kaiba, who is a vampire. I have about fifteen spin offs and iterations of their extremely good idea so it seems unfair not to show off my muse.

The shop at Coward’s Clutter lived up to its name in every way. Joey never really got over it, not when Seto Kaiba acted like the kind of person who’d have a carefully coordinated planner and a labeled box for every item. And there were parts of the shop that were organized, from the bins of geodes to the kitschy roadside bumper stickers. Shirts were hung on the wall to the side, with animal skulls lining shelves arranged by size. And yet, everywhere else, it seemed to operate more as Seto’s attic, with random taxidermied items arranged between ancient looking stuffed dolls, and the snowglobes and decorative glasses shoved unevenly together. A dress form was decorated only with a wide brimmed hat that frayed at its edges. No hours were stamped on its door, just a sign that said WILL RETURN with the hour hands fallen off.

Mai and Tristan had dragged him out here on a rainy day. Apparently Seto kept odd hours at the shop, and the gloomy clouds overhead had finally riled him into opening. Two hours in, he’d said in his phone call to Mai, a dripping noise had distracted him from his latest project. A leaky roof, the scourge of a central Texas home.

Joey never really understood his friendship with Mai. She was a bundle of vibrant energy and owned the local gay bar in Coward’s Creek, while Seto kept to himself on the outskirts of town, never interacting, always watching. But she’d given Joey a chance, when he’d driven down from Brooklyn to this small Texas town. It was a leap of faith she’d made for him, and Tristan too, who’d offered him a room and a job when he didn’t have to, in one of the scariest moments in Joey’s life. Joey tried to give the same chance to the people he met here, Seto included.

Which was probably why, when Mai had prodded Tristan into helping, and Joey went along too. Despite his handyman nature, he couldn’t do much. A leaky sink, a broken window latch, those were easy fixes to Joey, but house repair wasn’t exactly his specialty. He walked around the shop instead as Mai and Seto talked over the sounds of Tristan stamping around. The shop lay just out of town, meant to catch roadside looky-loos and people in desperate need for a bathroom. Distance seemed to be Seto’s whole thing.

“God I’m starving,” Mai said as she scratched a hand through her half-brushed hair. She’d worked a shift at the bar last night, and Joey was pretty sure Seto’s call had woken her up. “You hungry, Joey? We should order something.”

A werewolf metabolism ensured that Joey was pretty much always hungry. He’d been eying the jerky at the counter for a minute, but the promise of a filling meal was much more enticing.

“I don’t know if anyone delivers out here,” Seto said, not looking up from where he was counting silver pin back buttons. As Joey joined them at the counter, he watched them slide between Seto’s deft fingers, flashing a logo of a bat before landing in a bin.

“I think the Pizza Hut’s one delivery guy can manage five miles to city limits.” She pulled out her phone and frowned. “There’s never any reception out here.”

“There’s a phone in the back,” he said, eyes still focused on his task. “A phone book as well.”

“From 1991,” she said with a roll of her eyes and pointed at Joey. “Meat lovers?”

Joey nodded. “Yes please.”

She patted his face and headed to the back to ask Tristan his order. The rain pattered against the square windows of the shop, and the pins made a rhythmic clink as Seto continued counting them. It was the only sound to break the awkward silence. Joey continued watching his hands move. It reminded him of the way he’d seen cardsharks fool around, and the hours spent practicing flipping pens between his fingers instead of paying attention to the board in class.

“You need any help there?” Joey asked.

Seto didn’t look up as he answered with a dull, “No.”

It sent a spike of irritation through Joey, but he shrugged it off. He could never quite tell if Seto was being deliberately rude or just annoyingly obtuse. Their interactions had been buffered so far by Yugi or Mai, which seemed standard for Seto. Joey didn’t even know what to say, but that never stopped him before.

“Weird shop you’re running,” he said, and Seto only hummed in response. “You make all this stuff?”

He sighed, realizing he wasn’t getting out of a conversation. “The taxidermies.”

Joey glanced at them with a concerned look. “I guess everybody needs a hobby.”

Seto’s brow furrowed, but his hands didn’t stop in their counting. Joey’s eyes focused now on his thin wrist, the sleeve of his dark frock ending just at his palm. He was always in black, usually in the shapeless dresses or loose clothes that didn’t do much to disguise his skinny frame. His shoulders were sharp and severe no matter how he dressed. This look, like so many of his, included the high neck. Joey watched his shoulders roll with the continued motion of his hands.

“You really gotta count all those right now?” Joey asked desperately. 

“Yes,” Seto said. “You can always go help Tristan.”

“Don’t know much about roofs.” His eyes traveled up to the sharp point of Seto’s chin, and the bowl head haircut that hung down around his neck. “I only ever lived in apartments.”

“Now would be a fascinating time to learn.”

Joey thought about the attic in a place like this, dark and musty and filled to the brim with creepy stuff. He shook his head. “Tristan seems to be having fun on his own.”

They listened, for a moment, to the heavy footsteps overhead, until Seto let out a disgruntled breath. The final pin dropped into the bin. Joey nearly applauded.

“Got ‘em all there, chief?” he started to tease, and then stopped, because Seto was looking at him.

And it was really his fault, because he was looking at Seto. His gaze had centered on Seto’s eyes, big and dark blue, half-hidden by the overhang of bang. His pupils looked strange, especially in the low light of the gloomy day, flat almost, and they caught the weak lights that hung overhead with a strange sort of reflection. Seto’s face was always passive, like a stone block, but Joey was starting to catch how his eyes would change, from the dull glower that marked most of his interactions to the way the corners turned up when he was talking to Yugi or Mai. When he was angry the pupils widened so his eyes were almost black, and when he was enthusiastic the blue seemed to shine. Seto Kaiba remained in all things an enigma, but Joey felt he was starting to find the puzzle pieces he needed to make a full picture.

Now Seto’s eyes widened, the pupils small so what Joey really got was a deep ocean of blue. He expected anger from him, or annoyance, but what he actually saw in the smooth crescents of Seto’s eyes was a wide eyed bewilderment. Joey felt equally entranced and found himself struggling to let go.

“There’s another box in the back,” Seto said sharply and severely, and in one motion he reached for his cane and turned away from the counter. Joey couldn’t help but follow the motion with his eyes, focusing now on the leanness of his back, and the thin silhouette he made. As Seto pushed open the employee door, Tristan was coming out, wiping his hands as he did.

“Done as much as I can,” he said, not glancing up at either of them. “You’ll probably need an actual contractor out here to--hey.”

Seto shoved past him, leaving so swiftly he left dust in his wake. Tristan took a few steps back, swinging around to Joey.

“What’s his deal?” he asked.

Joey shrugged. “We were just chatting.”

He made a low noise and came to the counter. Joey was still focused on the space Seto once occupied. Werewolf senses he was still getting ahold of, but he could practically see his outline still in the smell of old wood, warm spices, and a slight metal tang from his various projects.

“That explains it,” Tristan said. “You don’t gotta stare. He’s gone.”

Joey blinked and his eyes went to the rafters. “Don’t know what you mean.”

He grinned and landed a hand on his shoulder. “Keep it steady, bud.”

Joey wasn’t sure what to do with the implication, so he forged a new conversational path. “Mai’s ordering a pizza. Probably three pizzas.”

“Sounds good,” he said. “I’m gonna make a call to a friend in town, see if he can patch it up quick. You two play nice.”

“Sure,” Joey said. “I always do.”

Tristan only rolled his eyes as he headed outside to catch some cell reception. Joey picked up a button and turned it over in his hands the way Seto had, mimicking the smooth movements. When no Seto or Mai appeared, he pocketed it. Out of sight, out of mind.


	3. Riverbank Blues (Gangster)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joey Wheeler wants one night off a week where he doesn't have to play tough kid with a bunch of gangsters, but things are never that easy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I switched some days around because this is actually iteration of the before mentioned Nocturnal Me. It's sort of a spin off of a spin off but I'm really happy with it and I think it read well enough on its own that I decided to share. Yes it is set in New York in the 1930s just go with it.
> 
> Warnings for blood and violence in this one.

A cold wind follows the line of the river. It’s a remnant of winter, the chill of Brooklyn’s ice and snow drifting away as springtime gets closer. Joey prefers this, the thin fragile cold, to the heat of a New York summer, but he’s always run hot. His companion doesn’t feel quite the same, which is why he walks to his side, blocking him from the wind, and he doesn’t mind at all when Seto sidles a little closer to him. They’re walking away from where Joey lives, towards the dark tenement houses and the imposing factories, but Joey can’t stand to let this guy traipse through Red Hook alone. The lights off the river offer a glow, but the streets are dark, with shadows pouring out of every alley. Red Hook isn’t the sort of place you go unless you have to.

Seto’s cane clicks against the sidewalk, his head down. Joey can see, when he glances at him, that despite the weariness of his bones and the clear strain the trip takes on him, he’s smiling. In the month Joey’s known him, he’s only seen Seto Kaiba smile a handful of times, usually small and wry or at someone else’s expense. They met here, on the riverbank in Red Hook, under the shadow of one of the factories, when they’d both chosen to enjoy a cigarette in the same alcove braced against the winter wind. Joey was waiting on a delivery, and he always had the habit of talking. Seto ignored him at first, but by the end of the night they were chatting up a storm. Joey had asked him to come meet him in a bar in the Village. He suspected from Seto’s wariness that he wouldn’t show.

But he did. And he kept showing, and now it’s their new routine. Seto meets him in one of the quieter bars on 10th Street, and they talk. Usually about nothing important. Joey does the most of it, telling him about growing up in Brooklyn, or sharing sanitized stories about his coworkers, or talking about nothing at all. Once it gets late, Joey walks him back. The next week they do it again.

Joey spends a lot of time around people who’d knock his lights out if he gave them the chance. He keeps his own secrets. If any of them knew Joey spent his Thursday nights drinking in the Village, a late night stroll through Red Hook would be the least of his problems. It’s nice having something separate, he thinks, from the rest of it all. Something Kane can’t touch. Something that isn’t made messy by who he hangs around with and the job he works. Seto doesn’t push, even when Joey says something he knows should raise a flag, and sometimes it even seems like he understands. It’s been a long time since Joey’s had that.

“Stop a minute,” Seto says, and he’s reaching into coat. “It’s impossible to light a cigarette while walking.”

Joey obliges, and they huddle in an overhang of an old shop whose windows have been boarded up. It’s not much for the wind, but Joey stands close to Seto so he can light a match. The cane and the cigarette and the matchbook are a bit of a juggling act for Seto. Joey offers his hands. The look Seto gives him is a wary one, but he gives over the matches, bringing the cigarette to his lips as Joey lights it.

“I’d think you’d wanna get out of the cold,” Joey says.

Seto puffs out a breath of smoke. “It’s not going to be any warmer in there, I promise. At least I enjoy the company out here.”

His voice is tinged with a Southern accent Joey doesn’t know how to place. It’s one of the many things that turns Seto into a puzzle he’s itching to solve. Seto lifts his pack to Joey as he sucks in another drag. Joey has his smokes tucked into his front pocket, but there’s something about the way Seto’s enjoying his own that makes him reach for one. He strikes the match, and Seto leans closer, as though trying to get close to the warmth.

“It’s no Tin City,” Joey says.

Seto makes a disgruntled noise. “We’ll see about that. Rumor has it the whole block of factories is going under.”

“Shit.” He grimaces. It’s bad all over these days. Jobs are scarcer than they ever were, and Joey’s watched people’s lives crumble. He knows exactly how bad it gets. “That’s gonna be a hit.”

Seto’s face only wrinkles up as he brings his smoke back to his lips. “It’s not worth worrying about tonight.”

“Next week drinks are on me,” Joey says and tries to smile. His fingers itch nervously, and he rolls the cigarette between them as he ducks his head down. “Or if you got another night free, I was thinking…”

He glances at Seto, who’s blue eyes widen as he stands straight. He doesn’t say a word, and Joey lets out a breath.

“I mean,” he barrels forward, “movies cost a dime these days, and it’s usually me going by myself to watch the cartoons, and, uh--”

“There’s a new Bela Lugosi picture,” Seto says suddenly.

Joey lets out a laugh. “The Dracula guy?”

He nods. “It’s based on an Edgar Allen Poe story. I’ve read him. His poetry, mostly.”

“I didn’t know you went for the spooky stuff,” Joey says.

He shrugs, taking another hit off his cigarette. It’s barely a scratch on the surface that is Seto Kaiba, but Joey needs to dig deeper. The poster for  _ Dracula _ gave him the heebie jeebies for a week, but he’s been working up to this all night, and he’s not gonna fumble at the finish.

“If you wanted to go,” Joey says. “I got two dimes to rub together.”

“You don’t have to brag about it,” Seto says with the edge of a smile. His cigarette’s down to its end, and he grinds it out. There’s something nervous in his gesture. “It’d be just the two of us then?”

Joey knows they’re toeing close to what they actually want to say, and he wouldn’t be surprised if Seto finds a way to withdraw, to tell him no. Joey sees his Thursday nights opening up again. No more long talks over poor drinks in the back booth of some bar. It’s just him and whatever random indiscretions he can keep out of sight of his fellow gangsters.

Seto only looks at him, posture shifting a little straighter, shoulders rising just enough. He’s standing his ground. There’s something clear in his gaze. Excitement. A thrill that matches the beating of Joey’s heart. He reaches his fingers out to hook them in Seto’s, and he opens his mouth to say anything at all, when he’s interrupted.

“A little far from home, Wheeler,” a voice calls.

Joey’s head pops up, and he sees three figures walking towards him. He recognizes the one in the center, tall and gangly and goes by the name of Sid. A big guy Joey knows he’s taken a punch from before stands to his right, and to his left is seventeen year old kid, looking anxious with energy. Kane makes enemies wherever he goes. Their competition’s something to cut a kid’s teeth on, but it hasn’t escalated. Not yet, anyway.

Seto doesn’t know any of that, but he still steps back, his guard up. Both hands are placed on his cane, which he settles in front of him. Joey’s teeth grind together, but he doesn’t lose his easy stance.

“Not a good night, Sid,” he says back. He turns so Seto’s placed behind him. His own cigarette’s down to a stub, and the spark’s getting close to his fingers.

Sid’s approaching slow. “Didn’t think any of you Flatbush saps would be brave enough to set foot out here.”

“Just passing through.” He raises his hands. “We’ll walk on if you walk on.”

“Real generous of you.” Sid’s gaze trails to Seto. “Kane know you’re out and about tonight?”

“Nah,” Joey says, casual, like his heart didn’t just start hammering in his chest.

He nods slow. “The way I figure it, if we let Kane’s number two waltz through here, it don’t look so good on us. You know how it is, Wheeler.”

“Right.” Joey sighs as he rolls his shoulders, but he remembers Seto right behind him. He turns to tell him to run, to get as far away from this mess, Joey included, as he possibly can, when the big guy wallops him. He sees Seto’s eyes go big as Joey totters but doesn’t fall. Joey swings, slamming his fist into the big guy’s chest, and it’s like hitting a brick wall.

_ Shit _ . This is an absolute peach of a situation. One night a week, he thinks, is all he needs to get away from this bullshit, to not think about territories or spend his days praying no cops decide to hassle some punk Japanese kid, or play the tough kid who can’t be touched. One night not spent worrying about his dad or his sister or his life. Apparently it’s too much to ask.

The least he can do is end this quickly. Three guys on the street should be nothing to Joey Wheeler. He brings up his fist still holding the cigarette and slams it into the big guy’s eye. It crushes into embers that rain down, and the big guy shouts as he jumps back. It’s the kid who grabs onto Joey that nearly knocks him down. The kid’s shorter, harder to get ahold of, and overeager to jump into the fray. Joey manages to grab onto the back of his shirt and lift him, but he earns a knee in the stomach for that. The big guy’s on him again, heavy hands giving him little room to move. Joey twists and tries to stay light on his feet, but when he turns he sees Sid grabbing onto Seto.

Blood thrums in his ears. Rage builds beneath his skin. Joey’s only seeing red as Sid laughs. He starts forward, fists up, and then the big guy grabs him by the side of the head, and he’s slammed into the brick wall. Everything blurs. Everything except Seto, whose blue eyes meet his for a dizzying moment, and again Joey sees something bright and clear and certain in his face. Sid has him by the hair on his neck, and Seto’s cane is swinging up to crack Sid in the face.

The gangsters still for just a moment, Joey included. Seto’s six feet tall and mostly bone, balanced on a cane and practically on the verge of falling over, but the hit lands in Sid’s mouth, and then he does not stop. His cane raps against Sid’s knees, nearly felling him, but as soon as the surprise passes Sid is spitting blood and fighting back. Seto takes a punch to the gut and then a strike across the face. He doesn’t go down. The kid runs up to help, but Seto sweeps him away and onto the ground before rising back up to take Sid. Joey feels the big guy’s grip lax, and he ducks down, fighting the dizziness as he drives his shoulder into the big guy’s stomach. He stumbles. Joey’s moving.

With one hit Seto’s got Sid on the ground, and he raises his cane to slam it down against his face. Sid’s shouting and flailing but Seto doesn’t stop, doesn’t let up, and Sid’s not shouting anymore. Seto’s face is twisted in anger, teeth ground together, eyes pinpoints of focus, and when Joey grabs his shoulder her whirls on him. For only a moment Joey expects the cane to crack against his own face, but Seto blinks, and he’s unsteadily holding onto Joey as well. Beneath them, Sid groans. Blood coats his face, and Seto’s cane, and Seto’s shoes. The other two gangsters are frozen as they stare at them. They’re looking at Seto like he’s a rabid dog, dangerous and erratic and going to snap again. Joey knows the look too well.

They don’t let it linger. He and Seto are already running. Joey isn’t sure where, exactly, and he stumbles behind Seto. His head feels heavy and light at the same time, and he clings to Seto’s jacket as they rush through the streets. When he sees the transit line, his chest breaks with relief. He drags Seto after him, cutting through the turnstile with ease, and it’s his luck a train’s pulling in. They cut through the doors as they’re closing and collapse onto a seat. It’s empty this time of night, which is good. Joey’s head is pounding, and while Seto’s dark clothes hide most of the stains, his left hand is red.

“Shit,” Joey says, and then, “Fuck.”

They rock as the train takes off. Seto lifts a hand to touch Joey’s forehead, and he stops when he sees the blood. His expression is blank. Gently, he tucks his hand into his sleeve.

Joey thinks he oughtta say something. Apologize, at least. He looks at Seto and says, “This is not how I wanted this night to go.”

Seto, in his usual enigmatic way, smiles. “And it was going so well before.”

“I’m sorry,” Joey says. “I should’ve--I didn’t--I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t do anything.” Seto reaches out with his right hand, curling his fingers in Joey’s palm.

Joey laughs, hanging his head. “That ain’t even close to the truth. If you’d known, you wouldn’t--”

“Joey,” he says, voice leaden and matter of fact, “you’re not exactly  _ subtle _ . I can’t promise I knew the full extent, but if you think I didn’t know you were some sort of gangster, I’m sorry to disappoint.”

“But if you hadn’t been with me--”

“Then you would’ve had the absolute shit beaten out of you.” Seto tenderly touches his brow. “How is your head?”

“Fine,” Joey says, even though the rocking of the subway car is making him a little sick.

He only frowns, not in his usual scowl, but in concern. “We should still get you home.”

Maybe it’s the head injury, but Joey’s momentarily overwhelmed. Seto’s the one beat to shit. His face is bloodied from Sid’s fist, his knuckles bloodied, all highlighting his usual ragged appearance and scarred skin. His concern is for Joey, though. He’s not running. He’s still here. Joey lifts his head up, and Seto’s looking at him, the soft arch of his lips slightly parted, and the space between them is closing, right as the train car rocks into the next stop. Joey has to lift an arm to keep from bashing his head again, and Seto grabs for his cane. Joey wants to swear again, but this time he refrains.

The Brighton line takes him only a few blocks from the small apartment he occupies. They don’t say a lot else as they walk. Joey keeps his arm on Seto, even after the fuzziness passes. He unlocks the door for Seto and flicks the light on in the apartment. It’s tiny and messy, shoes piled up, jackets tossed aside, mugs left out, books crammed in random places. Seto looks at it, but Joey guides him to the kitchen, where he runs the tap and then reaches for his makeshift first aid kit. Seto cleans his hands with only a grimace, and he follows Joey to the couch once he’s done, stripping away the heavy coat. He’s even thinner underneath.

“Where’d you learn to scrap?” Joey asks as he raises the a washcloth to Seto’s face.

Seto winces as the cool cloth wipes away the blood. He holds in a breath and then lets it out, saying, “As a child. I learned to hold my own.”

Another scratch at the surface. “I figured where you’re from it’s pistol at sundown.”

“You watch too many westerns.” Seto picks up his chin and adopts a deeper version of his accent, drawling out each vowel as he says, “Men don’t brawl in the street like common dogs. A true southern gentleman should smile and excuse himself outside.”

Joey goes red as he snorts out a laugh, one that’s matched by Seto. It’s the first honest laugh he’s heard out of him, not for trying, and Joey’s delighted by it. He tries to keep his hand steady and notes with some pleasure that Seto’s ears are pricking red.

“I’m gonna guess that’s not how it went,” Joey says.

“It didn’t matter, after a while,” he says with a shake of his head. “What about you? How long have you been with this Kane?”

It’s a fair question, one Seto deserves an answer to, but the truth is messier than Joey wants it to be. It’s an ugly knot that keeps getting thicker each time he tries to unravel it.

“We were kids,” he says. “At first it was stupid stuff, and then we--he--I dunno. At the time, everything was falling apart, and Kane offered a hand. I couldn’t say no.”

Seto nods, eyes lowering. Joey runs a thumb across the bruised skin of his cheek, and his breath hitches.

“When I left Texas,” Seto says, slowly, parsing his words with careful calculation, “it was because something terrible happened. And I did something--”

He sucks in a breath, and his hand draws to the chain around his neck, and for the first time Joey sees the locket at the end of it as he pulls it from beneath his shirt. He waits.

“I don’t regret what I did,” Seto says, “even if others might tell me I should. Which is to say, if you tell me you did what you had to do, I’m going to say I believe you, and I do. Sometimes, we are at the mercy of our circumstances. Sometimes, we make the choices we make.”

A silence falls between them. Joey takes his hand, and turns Seto’s palm up. Beneath the nails are dirt and grime and blood. His head is full of Seto’s secrets and his own, the thought of dealing with this tomorrow, the ache of his bones and the exhaustion he feels. It’s constant, and encroaching, but, in this moment, a little easier to bear.

“So,” he says, because the night’s been long and he never got a straight answer anyway, “did you still wanna go see a picture some time?”

Seto stares at him, mouth opening. It closes, opens again, and then Seto takes his face in his hands and drags him into a kiss. Joey laughs, but Seto is firm in his intent and holds him fast, hands digging into his hair. Joey guides his mouth open. When his tongue traces the line of his lips, he tastes the sharp copper of his blood. Seto shivers, presses closer, like he can’t have enough, so Joey gives him more. His hands hold his waist, riding up the fabric of the threadbare shirt he wears until he sees the white skin underneath. Seto gasps at his touch, and he can’t seem to decide where he wants to touch Joey, so the solution is everywhere. They’re no longer sitting up but laying down, with Joey between his legs as he kisses him and kisses him and kisses him some more. He runs a hand across his hip, and Seto lets out a hiss, head falling back. Joey stops.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

Seto closes his eyes, and Joey realizes he’s embarrassed. His arms are still locked around Joey, asking him not to pull away.

“My hip,” Seto says. “It makes things difficult, usually at the worst times.”

“It’s been a night.” Joey brushes a hand through his hair. “Maybe we should--”

Seto shakes his head. “I don’t want to stop. Just, gently. Please.”

There’s something so earnest in his voice, Joey can’t imagine saying no. Gentle, he can do.

“Come on,” he says, kissing him one more time. “We’ll have an easier time in a bed.”

Seto’s expression, as Joey takes his hand, is like he’s being led to the guillotine, but he follows. Joey didn’t doubt he would. In the moonlit shadows of his bedroom, Joey sets out to find every place he can touch on Seto’s skin, warming the room with only their movements and the soft puffs of their own breath. Joey doesn’t know what time it is when they’re finally laying there, covers pulled tight to trap their heat, Seto burrowing closer to lay beneath Joey. His eyes are closed, but Joey can hear the soft sounds he makes as he traces aimless lines across his chest.

“I can’t imagine,” Seto says, “going to work tomorrow.”

“Shit.” Joey buries his head into the crook of his shoulder. “I kept you out too late.”

He scoffs low. “I’d be leaving here just to pick up my pink slip anyway.”

Joey considers this. In the thin silence of the room, wrapped in each other’s warmth, after what feels to be a significant amount of steps forward for the both of them, it feels harder and harder to let this go.

“I know a guy,” Joey says quietly, “who needs some people. Easy jobs. Usually just walking something a few city blocks.”

Seto’s eyes open, but he remains quiet. Joey knows he’s pushing things--when is he not--but it’s one of those things, like he said. The mercy of their circumstances.

“I don’t know how much better it is,” he admits. “There’s cops to worry about. Other people too. But you can hold your own.”

“It pays well?” Seto asks.

“Better than the factories. Better than breadlines or the Hoovervilles.”

Seto stares up at the ceiling. His eyes are bright in the darkness. His head turns, and he wraps his arms around Joey’s shoulders, kissing him.

“If it means I can stay here all morning,” he says, “I’ll do whatever I’m asked.”

“Dangerous words,” Joey warns playfully.

Seto smiles in reply, and he rests his head back. Joey closes his eyes too. As Seto sighs against him, he thinks about telling him to get out, that it’s not a joke, that Joey’s promising dangerous things, and for him, there’s no way out but down.

But Seto understands. Maybe better than anyone ever will. He can tell, there’s something deep and dark buried in Seto’s past, and Joey knows that feeling so well, it almost breaks his heart to think there’s two of them. So Joey holds him close, and he takes the comfort where he can. He’ll worry about the rest tomorrow.


	4. The Sea is Calm Tonight (Role Swap)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Kaiba Corp blimps moves to the end of Battle City, and two of its occupants struggle to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I started fiddling with the idea of a role swap a long time ago, and I've struggled a lot working the characters where I needed. At this point, I feel like I've broken down both Joey and Seto to their core character traits, so the ideas are coming easier. This ended up being a sort of experiment, a conversation between two characters who are too similar and often very different.

The Kaiba Corp blimp moved over the ocean, a single star over a dark sea. The waves moved serenely below, its placid nature disguising a turmoil below. It stretched out far around the blimp, who blinked with bright lights as it moved to its destination. Nighttime meant its occupants were supposed to be at sleep, save its pilot and a small crew, and a single soul who stood at the window of the main hull. Seto Jodai stood at the window, watching the ocean below.

He felt a strange kinship with the ocean below, and his own turbulent thoughts made no waves across his passive face.He knew he should be asleep, like his little brother who was curled up in one of the beds in their suite. He had a duel tomorrow, and Battle City had been a long and unexpectedly grueling. Half their friends were being monitored by the Kaiba Corp medical team, and he’d already nearly died twice. Right now, with the water on all sides of them, the lights of Domino City disappeared in the distance, he felt more distant from home than ever. Anticipation made his heart pound. Tomorrow could be another victory, another step towards the top. He wanted it so badly. For himself, for Mokuba. It was a chance to prove himself. It wasn’t something he’d ever had before.

His thoughts were jostled as the door the main area slid open. In the reflection of the window Seto could see a square of light from the hallway, and silhouetted there, a familiar figure. Katsuya Kaiba stopped as he saw him, and Seto glanced back. Kaiba, in his day to day, seemed willing to play up his teenage delinquent nature, with the high collared jackets and dark colors, the bleached hair messy, and a hard edge to his brown eyes, which was probably why he looked so alarmingly cozy in a pajama set decorated with multicolored scapegoats and a mug of something warm held between his hands. Seto got an uneasy feeling looking at him. It was seeing a lion curled up like a sleeping house cat. Cute to look at, with the reminder that there were claws and teeth underneath.

“I thought everyone was asleep,” Kaiba said by way of greeting.

Seto frowned, returning to the view. In the reflection, he saw him sink into a chair and prop his feet over the edge.

“You’ve got a big day tomorrow,” Kaiba kept talking. “I think you’d wanna be all bright eyed and bushy tailed like the rest of your friends.”

“And what exactly are you doing?” Seto snapped.

“It’s my tournament.” He gave a long sigh and slumped back. “I didn’t think running one would be so  _ boring _ . I just wanted to play with my friends, y’know?”

“We’re not your friends.” Seto turned around. “And do you think this tournament has been boring?”

“How would you describe it?”

“Dramatic,” he said. “Harrowing.  _ Life-threatening _ .”

“Maybe to you,” Kaiba said with a shrug.

“Yes, to me.” He started forward. “You were watching as someone possessed me and my friend.”

He rolled his eyes. “You weren’t going to die. The way you complain, I’d think you didn’t want to be in my tournament.”

Seto’s hand curled on the back of a chair. “It’s going to be so satisfying when I beat you.”

A grin stretched across his face. “Last time we dueled I kicked your ass.”

He grit his teeth. “You caught me when I was new to the game, when I barely had any cards in my deck. It wasn’t exactly fair game.”

“Maybe not,” Kaiba said. “But you gotta play every advantage you got. I just happen to have a lot of advantages.”

“I can’t stand you sometimes,” Seto said. He slid down into the chair, crossing his arms. “You know some of us do this for a reason. For some of us, Duel Monsters is the only thing we have.”

Kaiba’s eyes narrowed, and the hard edge Seto was used to creased a line across his brow. His tone turned sharper when he said, “You don’t know why I do anything.”

“To have fun, right?” He shook his head. “Because you like it, because you can? This isn’t the future of your livelihood, this isn’t what keeps you going, and your brother—”

He sucked in a breath. An emotion welled up inside him, and he tamped down on it, trying not to look at Kaiba as he did. It was the exhaustion, him spewing this out to Kaiba like they were anything to each other, and the frustration. But Kaiba was looking at him, curiously, like he would listen.

“Everything I do,” Seto continued, “is for my little brother. I promised him. I promised him I’d take care of us. This isn’t just a game to me.”

“I don’t think it’s been ‘just a game’ to anyone for a minute.” Kaiba looked down at the mug in his hands, and Seto was surprised to see a melancholy cross his face. “I’ve made all sorts of promises in my life. Last thing I told Shizuka when we were kids was that I’d find her. Eight years it took me to keep that promise. Every day I thought--I started to think it’d be the only promise I couldn’t keep.” He gave a little shiver, the aftereffects of a nightmare. “You didn’t let them take your brother away.”

Seto breathed in. “I couldn’t.”

“Right.” His eyes remained down. “Sometimes I wonder what would’ve happened if I’d done the same, but then I think about dragging her into Gozaburo’s house of horrors and I… She’s happy, right? She looks happy?”

Seto thought of Kaiba’s younger sister, who was so unlike him in every way. She smiled brightly, she opened herself up to others, she laughed, and she was braver than anyone expected. Seto would’ve never claimed the two of them blood, until now, when Kaiba looked at him so earnestly, his brown eyes wide and any anger smoothed from his face. This wasn’t the tough guy who played a better mob boss than high school student. This was Katsuya.

“Of course she does,” Seto said.

The smile that broke across Kaiba’s face wasn’t his usual shark’s grin. This one was genuine, warm, pleased. The affect was like the sun dawning. Seto had to hide his eyes.

There was a silence between them a beat too long, and then Kaiba laughed, squirming down into his seat.

“You really should get some sleep,” he said. “Especially if you think you’re gonna beat me tomorrow.”

Seto grabbed onto the lifeboat he was throwing. A taste of the rivalry he’d come to expect. “You think I can’t?”

“I don’t know.” His grin stretched, and there it was, the toothy smile that took so many people down. “But I’d like to see you try.”


	5. Paperback Dreams (Library)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seto Kaiba, with a pile of paperback romances and a broken self checkout machine, is forced to have a conversation with another human being.

There were few pleasures Seto Kaiba took for himself, and he found his weekly visits to the Domino Public Library to be one of them. He rarely had time to actually enjoy it. The downtown building was white with glass windows and an oblong shape. Often, it was a lunch hour, or a quick run in after he finally left the office, usually on the nights he did try to leave on time. There were always people in it, using the light colored desks or on the computers there. Seto did not browse the shelves around him, or stop to investigate the displays. He was in, and he was out, which was fine by him. He didn’t really need anyone commenting on the items he checked out.

He moved quickly today to where his holds were, past the help desk at the entrance and the rows of people desperately printing. His lunch hour was better spent going over code or ensuring the quality control of KC’s latest product, but he’d promised his younger brother to stop working through his personal time. Several people also seemed to be scrambling to finish whatever chore they needed to before returning to the day, and he breezed past, took his books from where they were held, and moved to the checkout machines.

Seto had to admit, his favorite part of coming in here was talking to no one. He placed his holds before he came, waited for the notification that they arrived, and then checked them out at the machines beside the main desk. It wasn’t that anything he checked out was particularly damning. There were adventure books for Mokuba, of course, and the video game guides he liked to read, but Seto’s items were, well, unappealing to his personal brand. He doubted if anyone saw him with one of his science fiction novels, they’d give it a second thought, but he portrayed himself a certain way, and the other items were a little more embarrassing. Romance novels with rugged cowboys on the front and melodramatic harlequins wouldn’t exactly match up to the hard exterior he maintained. He had a reputation. It had only helped him so far. So he checked out his items, and he read them in the privacy of his own home where only Mokuba could make fun of him.

It was why today, when he went to scan his library card, and the machine beeped once before displaying an error message, he felt an instant frustration. He scanned it again. Another error message. Seto frowned and glanced up at the desk. Two people sat there, a young woman with cropped dark hair who was helping an elderly man, and a blond headed man who was reading something on his screen. A pair of red framed glasses sat square on his face, and his blond hair was glowing with the afternoon sunlight that came in from the windows across from them. He glanced up as he saw Seto looking at him. He smiled.

“Did you need some help?” he asked.

Seto sighed and moved stiffly in front of him. He dropped the books on the desk and said, “There’s a problem with my account.”

He nodded, and his smile didn’t fade. The name tag on his button up shirt read JOEY. He held out a hand, and Seto gave him his library card. Seto stood awkwardly as he scanned it, glancing down at the stack in front of him. The books were face down, but the spines betrayed him.

“It’s no big deal,” the librarian said. “Looks like you returned a DVD and it was missing its disc. Anyway you still got  _ Dune _ at home?”

“Ah,” Seto said. “I must’ve left it somewhere.”

“No biggie.” He started sliding the books towards him. “I can check you out right now and then next time just bring it by. Did you get a chance to watch it?”

“Hm?” Seto blinked, watching him slide the barcodes under the scanner.

“It’s a hot mess of a movie,” he continued, sunny smile still pointed at him. “But I know a ton of people who love it. Sting in the speedo was almost worth it for me.”

“I had to give up on it,” Seto said.

“You know we gotta scifi book club.” Joey gestured to the plastic stand of flyers immediately to his right, packed with information on upcoming events. “Scifi and fantasy, if it floats you. I’m more of a dragon guy myself.”

Seto eyed the flyer. It wasn’t constructed by any marketing department, and the clipart of a dragon and a future warrior with a laser gun suggested Joey made it himself. The book displayed was science fiction in nature, one Seto hadn’t heard of before. Joey continued on his pitch as he finished the last of Mokuba’s books, sliding them back to Seto as he grabbed the rest.

“I’ve been trying to get those guys to read anything new,” he said. “I try to pick out the good stuff.”

“Fascinating,” Seto said, watching as the first paperback romance was scanned.

“I bet you’re into the serious stuff,” Joey continued, not even looking down. “You’re all  _ 2001 _ or  _ The Martian _ . It’d be a nice break from all the people I talk to reading  _ Star Trek _ novelizations.”

“I like  _ Star Trek _ ,” he said, somewhat defensively.

“Oh yeah?” He narrowed his eyes at him, but his smile didn’t break. “Picard, right?”

Seto offered a smug smile of his own when he said, “Kirk.”

Joey grinned, a little more genuine than his previous customer service expression. The woman to their right waved as the elderly man she was helping headed towards the computers before turning to them.

“Joey’s trying to start a fight,” she said. “He does this with every nerd he comes across.”

“Wow, Tea.” Joey shook his head. “Calling our patrons names. You’re gonna get me in trouble.”

“He’s the same about comics,” she warned. “One day you’re gonna have a disagreement and one of these guys is gonna jump across the desk. Or you will.”

“I would never,” he said solemnly and scanned the last item, placing them in a neat pile for Seto to take. “At least not here. You’re all set.”

Seto quickly took the items, sliding Mokuba’s materials over his. The librarians seemed content with their own conversation, and it looked as though he’d make it scot-free.

And then Joey handed him the receipt, saying, “And Tristan runs our romantics book club, if you’re interested in that too.”

Seto hugged his books to his chest, like he’d been caught red handed. He blinked once and then twice, and then possibly to prove how uninterested he was in the other, he snagged the science fiction book club flyer and hurried away. As he stepped outside to the busy streets of Domino, he hoped his face wasn’t turning too red. It was silly, he knew. They probably checked out a thousand more embarrassing books in a single day, but he’d enjoyed the sort of anonymity that came with his weekly visit. The conversation had been entirely too friendly.

But not unpleasant. He opened the flyer he’d curled in his hand. It looked entirely too silly. He wasn’t about to spend an evening once a month discussing someone’s  _ Star Wars  _ fanfiction. No matter how much he loved to argue, or how nice the librarian had been. He’d offered himself some relief, thinking he’d never see the librarian again, until he remembered he still had a DVD to return. No avoiding it now.

He stuffed the flyer into the pages of his paperback. He’d have to save them both for another time.

—-

Joey breathed in his cup of coffee as he leaned against the counters in the break room. The day had been easy so far, and he hoped it stayed that way. The workroom was a shuffle of activity on the hour as people switched their stations. The two hour stint on the desk meant he’d earned his fifteen minutes. He nodded to Tristan and Tea as they came in.

“Guess who talked to our number one romantic today,” Tea said, nudging Tristan. “Joey tried to get him to join your book club.”

“Really?” Tristan grinned as he started making his own coffee. “I thought he was a ghost. It’s like catching Bigfoot.”

“Tea called him a nerd,” Joey said and laughed when Tristan gasped dramatically.

“They were nerding out together,” Tea said. “They were talking about  _ Star Trek _ .”

Tristan clapped him on the shoulder. “Joey made a friend.”

“Until you called him out on the paperbacks!” Tea pinched his arm. “He was so embarrassed. He  _ ran _ out of there.”

“I didn’t mean to!” Joey raised a hand in his own defense. “I was getting Tristan’s numbers up. I didn’t know he’d freak out.”

“Maybe you’ll get lucky,” he said. “Maybe he’ll show up to one of our programs.”

Joey smiled as he sipped his coffee. “We can only hope.”


	6. The Frog Prince (Fairy Tale)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Once upon a time there was a boy, a girl, and a ball.

Once upon a time there was a boy, a girl, and a ball.

The boy was kindly called simple by most of the people he knew, and he was simple but that didn’t make him stupid. He’d known days like today, when the sky was blue and white clouds moved lazily past the yellow sun and the birds chirped and the bees hummed because flowers bloomed along the paths through town, these days were better spent outside dirtying his knees and letting sunlight warm his face. He and his sister had taken a ball and chased it down the paths leading to the forest that surrounded the town. They’d run and they’d run until they couldn’t anymore, breathless and shouting and happy, the way children should be.

The boy’s name was Joey, the girl’s name was Serenity.

They with their ball, and as they came to the edge of town, Joey kicked it. The ball sailed into the air, a clean and solid arc, and both children watched where that trajectory ended. It hit the wall inside the old well, and then it fell heavily below. Joey and Serenity ran to its edge, holding onto the old brick to lift themselves up and watch the ball bounce into darkness. They stared for a minute, neither moving.

“That was our ball,” Serenity said.

Joey let out a long, tired sigh. “It’s gone now.”

“What’re we gonna do?” she asked.

Joey pulled on the rope, but it was broken. He tried to see the bottom, but it was too deep. There wasn’t anything they could do. He kicked the grass and slumped to the ground.

“Sorry, Serenity,” he said.

She sat beside him. “It’s okay. We can get another one, probably.”

It felt unfair. The day was kind, with springtime breezes shaking the leaves of the trees. He tried to think of other things for them to do, maybe running across the river or finding berries, but his train of thought was interrupted by a voice, somewhere above their heads.

“Good job,” a voice croaked, and they both looked up. A frog sat on the edge of the well, staring down at them. He was green, and small for a frog, and for some inexplicable reason there was a paper crown placed on his head.

Serenity and Joey both looked at each other, to make sure they were both seeing the same thing. They stood, peering closer.

“You’re a frog,” Joey said.

He croaked indignantly and said, “Brilliant observation.”

“Why do you got a crown?” Serenity asked and reached to poke it. The frog croaked again, his throat inflating, and she quickly pulled away.

“I am a prince,” he said and stood up some, looking as haughty as a frog could.

“You’re a  _ frog _ ,” Joey repeated.

He exhaled all at once. “I am also cursed.”

That made sense. Lots of people got cursed. It made sense that a prince would be. They were more likely than anybody to get cursed.

“Why are you cursed?” Serenity asked. She was usually the one to ask questions.

“It’s complicated,” the frog said. “The important thing is that I’m cursed, and I need to change back.”

Saving a prince from a curse seemed a better way to spend their day than any other option. Joey said, “Can we help?”

The frog eyed them. “I don’t know how much help you can be.”

“Let us try,” Serenity said.

“What’s your name?” Joey asked.

The frog considered them both. After a moment, he said, “It’s Seto.”

Joey held Seto in his arms as they walked back to town. He wasn’t as slimy as Joey had expected, but he was cold to touch, and he looked annoyed to be carried so indignantly. Serenity kept a step behind, pointing out everything to him. They debated what to do as they walked around.

“Was it a sorcerer?” Joey asked. “Or an evil witch? Maybe we could fight them.”

Serenity shook her head. “In the stories it’s always the handsome prince who breaks the spell.”

“We don’t have any of those,” Joey said.

Seto croaked defensively. “You don’t know what I look like.”

“Well right now you look like a frog,” he said. “What do you think, Serenity?”

“I think the baker’s got some day old cookies and she might give it to us,” she said. “We don’t think any better on an empty stomach.”

People called Serenity the smart one, and in moments like these Joey agreed. They raced to look properly pathetic when the baker came out and came away two cookies richer. They could not convince her to give an extra for their frog, but Joey split his in half and let Seto nibble on it as they continued to walk around. The fortuneteller’s shop was closed, and Joey’s desire to fight was vetoed by both Serenity and Seto. Serenity, who read her fairy tales like religious text, took them around, but her attempts went just as well. Not a single fairy ring, or raven, or eye in the tree bark proved to be a magical portal. When the day started to grow long, they went back to their house, sneaking Seto past their mother, and they laid him on their pillow as they tried to come up with more solutions. Seto began to sink down in the bed, looking more and more exhausted.

“This is stupid,” he said. “I don’t know why I thought the two of you cold help me.”

“We’re trying,” Joey said. “Maybe tomorrow Miss Valentine can—”

“A village witch isn’t going to be able to break this curse.” He threw his head down to properly wallow. “I’ll be stuck like this forever. You two are too worthless to do anything. Fairy circles? Sword fights? I must’ve been desperate to let you try.”

“You’re a talking frog,” Serenity said. “I thought—”

“It’s childish,” Seto said bluntly, “and stupid.”

Joey stood straight up. “Don’t talk to my sister like that.”

“I’ll talk to you then,” he said. “Your bullheaded ideas are just as idiotic. At least she’s a modicum of sense. You’re the sort of fool that needs a keeper so you don’t run into traffic.”

Joey grabbed him, and in response, holding him in his tiny fist, and in response Seto spat his tongue out at him. Joey shouted, and he dropped him, and Seto bound onto the windowsill. He adjusted his crown as the two stared at him.

“I don’t even think you’re a prince,” Joey snapped. “You must’ve been stupid and ugly to someone so they made you stupid and ugly. You won’t even tell us how you got cursed because you know it’s your fault! Go bother someone else!”

“I will!” Seto shouted, and he stuck out his tongue one more time before hopping out the window.

Serenity and Joey waited a moment, before she turned to him and said, “That was mean.”

Joey crossed his arms. “You heard what he said.”

“I don’t think he has anybody else, Joey.”

“Yeah, well.” He sunk back into their bed. “Wouldn’t surprise me one bit.”

She sat beside him, and neither said anything at all, not until their mother called them to dinner. They ate their meal quietly, and they did their chores that night, and they went to bed without a fuss. Joey resolved to put the encounter out of his mind, until late that night when he heard a noise at the window.

Something tapped on the frame. He sat up in his bed, where his little sister sleep soundly beside him. He saw the round shape of the frog, and Seto saw him. He looked down sheepishly, and then he hopped from the window to the ground outside. Joey considered going right back to sleep, but he slipped from his bed and snuck out the door. Outside, Seto was there, balanced on a ball Joey recognized well. It was a little slimy from its time in the well, but it was back here again.

“It was very difficult to get out,” Seto said. He raised his chin up. “It took an awful lot of work.”

Joey crouched down in the dirt in front of him. “Why’d you bring it all?”

“Well, I—” He reached up to remove his little paper crown, holding it to his chest. “I’ve been a frog for some time now, and I couldn’t find anyone who was able to help me. You weren’t entirely wrong about some things. I have been a little… cruel to the people around me. I’ve tried promising jewelry or gemstones, but you and your sister helped me for no reason at all, and then I turned that help away. This is an apology.” He winced a little. “I am… sorry.”

Joey tilted his head back and forth in consideration. Seto looked at him, breath held. 

“Are you really a prince?” he asked.

Seto exhaled. “Yes. Kind of. Like I said, it’s complicated, but my brother is still back there, and I need to find him, but I can’t do anything if I’m like this.”

“Okay,” Joey said.

His gaze turned a little desperate. “Okay what?”

“Okay, he repeated. “Apology accepted, and tomorrow we can try again, and maybe we can try to help your brother. Serenity’s smart--she is!--she’ll come up with a plan, I bet.”

“What plan? What do you think you’re going to—” Seto stopped himself and squeezed his eyes shut. “Fine. Thank you.”

Joey grinned and held out his hand. Seto hopped down, and when he moved to leap into Joey’s outstretched palm, something shifted. His little frog limbs stretched out, and his pads became fingers, and his face became a human face, and suddenly there was no longer a frog leaping at Joey but a human boy colliding with his face, and they both landed with a heavy thump on the ground, their foreheads knocking together so hard that Joey’s teeth ached. He laid back dazedly as Seto sat straight up, holding his hands out as he looked at himself again. Joey wasn’t really sure how a prince was supposed to look and figured he was a good approximation. Dark hair hung down over wide blue eyes, and the clothes he wore were fine, a blue cape hanging loose around his shoulders. The little paper crown remained exactly the same, and it wafted slowly to the ground.

“That was it!” he shouted. “That’s all I had to--oh, I’m going to kill Noah he must be absolutely cackling right now. God, I hate him. I’m going to—”

Joey heaved out a breath and said, “You’re on my stomach.”

Seto stared down at him and immediately scrambled up, offering a hand a moment later to help him as well. He looked sheepish as he did. Joey looked at him some more, and he nodded.

“I guess Serenity was right,” he said. “The handsome prince had to break his own spell.”

Seto’s face flared red, and he struggled to keep his dignity. “I supposed you helped.”

He grinned. “Well that’s the first step done. We should wake Serenity up. Did someone really curse you to teach you to say please and thank you?”

“I think it’s a little joke from my step-brother.” He shored himself up. “Who I now have to deal with. I suppose I’ll thank you again.”

“Hold on,” Joey said. “Like I said, we’ll get Serenity up. She’ll have some ideas, and you can tell us the whole story.”

“You—” Seto swallowed. “You still want to help me?”

“I might as well. You were pretty lost before you met us.”

“Oh.” He considered this. “Alright. But I should repay you. Gold and jewels and all that.”

Joey only laughed, and Seto smiled as well, weakly. Of course there were still things to do and journeys to take. It wasn’t exactly happily ever after, but it was a start to something. Sometimes, that’s just as good.


	7. Fresh Heart (Stardew Valley)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seto Kaiba makes a purchase for his farm.

Fall was quite possibly the best time of year in Kokoro Town. The leaves of the trees were an array of colors, warm siennas and dark purples and green needles of the evergreen. The green grass was starting to fade away as a cool wind pushed winter closer. Crops burst out of the ground, and forage sprouted in every part of the town. Seto didn’t know, as he sat on his porch with a warm mug of coffee, if this was his favorite season, or if he preferred the cool white quiet of winter, but as he watched the sprouts of the new seasonal crops, he had a pretty good idea.

Seto wasn’t sure, when he first arrived over a year ago, if he’d be able to admit that. He’d first arrived here as a Kaiba Corp representative to secure their foothold in Kame Valley, and the viewing of its natural resources, from the vast forestes to the vein rich mountains, had been a calculation of profit. He’d been living in the old run down farm at the edge of town, and his hope had been to leave as quickly as possible. It was strange to think of a place he once despised as home. Stranger, too, now that he was expanding it.

“Hey!” a voice called from the farm path, and Seto looked up to see Joey walking towards him. In the warm orange tones of fall, the golden hues of his hair were even more highlighted, the cool blue of his jean jacket a calming sight. “You look pretty comfy there.”

“I am,” he said and leaned back. “You could join me.”

Joey grinned as he came to the porch, leaning over him. “I thought we had plans.”

He smiled up at him, and Joey leaned down to press a kiss against his lips. This was probably the most startling development since coming here. Seto struggled to map the trajectory that had led them here, but it’d become one of those things that didn’t matter. As Joey held his hand out to him, he took it. It was as simple as that.

They took the forest path down, walking hand in hand as they did, easy and slow. Seto admired the trees, and Joey pointed out the blackberry bushes ready to grow fruit. Seto had come to this place, expecting to see its potential, and he had. It wasn’t in any way Noah appreciated, but he’d long since stopped worrying about that.

They came to the ranch at the edge of the forest. Cows mooed happily outside as goats chowed down on fresh hay. Seto had visited infrequently over his time here, but he passed it every other day, and the face who greeted them at the counter was familiar. Rex Raptor was local vet and rancher, as strange a character as anyone else in this town. But his specialty lied in the care of his animals. As much as animals could, they looked happy, and his skill lay in breeding them as well. Amid the white and brown chickens that clucked and strutted, there was an interesting sight. Seto had first seen them a year, a special breed of chicken, who were overall fluffier than their brethren, whose tail feathers curled up, and the whole of them colored a shade of blue.

“They’re a son of a bitch to breed,” Rex was saying as they walked around. “I basically can’t guarantee that they’re blue, but I had a few this time around. Joey said you liked ‘em.”

Seto knelt down in front of one. The birds eyed him curiously.

“Are they any different?” Joey asked. His hands were in his jacket pockets, and he eyed them all as though they were amping up an attack. Seto didn’t blame him. He’d held the same wariness not too long ago.

“Nah,” Rex said with a dismissive wave. “They lay eggs just the same. You got a coop, right? I remember the Ishtars talking about doing some work for you.”

“Isis recommended the silo as well,” Seto said.

“Oh, yeah, that’ll make it a peach. Here.”

Rex removed a small feed bag and dropped a fistful of seed into Seto’s palm. He extended the same to Joey, who took it nervously. The chickens clucked with more curiosity and started towards them. One of the larger blue ones extended its neck to inspect Seto’s palm before snatching a bit of seed. Carefully, with his other hand, Seto reached out, running a finger along the soft feathers along its outside. His chest tightened in excitement, and as it looked up at him with its little eyes, he couldn’t help but smile.

The other chickens gathered as well, a few clucking at Joey’s feet. He startled, dropping his seed all at once and nearly tripping backward as it launched six of them to try to snatch up the treat. Seto managed not to laugh, just barely.

Rex didn’t have the same restraint. He grinned as he turned to Seto, who lifted to his feet, dusting off his knees.

“I got three of the blue ones,” he said. “You can pick any one you want.”

“Do you sell them elsewhere?” Seto asked. “Kokoro Town can’t be your end all.”

He shrugged. “I always got people when we do the fair, and I get some interested folks driving out. Since our main mode of transport is still broke, I gotta rely on people coming to me.”

“Of course.” Seto eyed them each. The chickens were happy enough scooping up the extra feed, and a few fluttered their wings at each other as they tried to budge them out of the way. “I could pay for all three.”

“Big spender,” Rex said with a raise of his eyebrow. He scooped one up that came close and scratched beneath its beak. “You ever take care of an animal before? Like, any animal?”

“That stray’s been living on the farm,” Joey said, clinging closer to Seto as the chickens continued to move around them.

Rex considered him before motioning him to hold his arms out, and Seto did. He placed the hen in his hands, making sure Seto folded them over the wings. The chicken fluttered a little, but didn’t try to escape.

“You’re gonna wanna hook her under your arm,” Rex said, “and hold her feet--yeah like that. They’ll kick, especially if they get scared. Give her a pet.”

Seto did, smoothing his hand along the blue feathers. He looked at Joey, who nervously extended a hand to the hen. She seemed thoroughly unbothered by the whole affair, only offering a half-hearted flutter of her wings.

“A little affection every day’s good,” Rex continued. “And I’ll buy back any eggs, or Mr. Muto at the general store. You got a space heater for the winter? They’ll need it, but you got some time. Come on, I’ll wrap ‘em up to go.”

They returned to Rex’s counter so they could pay, and Seto was surprised when Joey laid down the money first.

“No arguing,” Joey said as Rex took it. “It’s an early birthday present.”

“I wouldn’t have gotten all three if I’d known,” Seto said.

Joey grinned at him. “You can pay me back. A night out in Domino City would do it.”

“That wouldn’t be enough.” Seto picked at the shoulder of his jacket. “Maybe concert tickets to that band you like.”

His eyes lit up as he grinned. The warmth that beamed off Joey’s face, it was like summer had come early. If Rex weren’t looking directly at them, Seto might’ve kissed him, but there’d be time for that later.

“Alright,” Rex said with a roll of his eyes. “If the lovebirds are done, we can get these guys home.”

Seto reached down and squeezed Joey’s hand. Before Seto had come here, he didn’t know how he would’ve defined home, but things had changed so much since then. A place that was his, that he’d built up, with the help of the people around him, and now a feathered flock to care for. With Joey’s hand around his, he couldn’t imagine anything better.


	8. No Sleep (Black Tapes)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joey Wheeler thinks he sees a ghost, and he calls the resident skeptic to scare away his nightmares.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I started mapping out a Black Tapes AU not too long ago, and this is one of the first scenes that popped up in my head. I didn't get too creative trying to translate a podcast to prose form, but let's call this a tester for future things.

At 3 AM, there was a knock at Joey Wheeler’s door.

He jumped up to open it, kicking aside his discarded shoes and the blanket from the couch. Every light in his apartment was on, from the overhead in the kitchen, to the three lamps in his living room, to the small light he kept plugged in by the bathroom. It was the first thing he’d done on waking up almost an hour ago. The second was start a pot of coffee. It’d given him something to do, a calming ritual while he waited. It meant he had a mug ready to go for his late night guest. He pulled open the door, and standing there was Seto Kaiba.

Despite the hour, he looked exactly the same as he always did. Dark hair neatly brushed, a jacket pulled over a black shirt, entirely put together. Any other time, Joey might’ve closed the door in his face, but right now the presence of another person was the only balm he had to his anxiety.

“I still don’t know why I couldn’t explain this over the phone,” were the first words out of Kaiba’s mouth as he entered the apartment. “I don’t think _ a bad dream _ is really worth my time and effort.”

Definitely should’ve closed the door in his face. Joey bit back, “Sorry if I’m interrupting the Kaiba Institute from its important work at three in the morning.”

Kaiba rubbed his face with a sleepiness that betrayed his appearance. “Just interrupting my sleep. You said you saw a ghost?”

Joey swallowed. The fear that had propelled him to call Kaiba was burning away into embarrassment. When Yugi had come to him about their stupid podcast however many months ago, Joey had been nervous to explore any amount of the paranormal. He couldn’t even sit through a scary movie, but he’d trusted his friend. That was before they’d discovered Kaiba’s so called “Black Tapes”, which included recordings of exorcisms, tales of being stalked by shadowy figures, cults practicing ancient forms of demonic summoning. They’d all become entrenched in it. So the question of _ you saw a ghost _seemed lacking. It made Joey sound like he’d imagined his grandad in his old rocking chair. It was the sort of dismissive way Kaiba would try to understand.

“It wasn’t a ghost,” Joey said, and Kaiba raised a single eyebrow, making him feel even dumber. “It wasn’t just a ghost. It was--It was the thing. The same thing everyone’s been seeing. The shadow--”

“With one eye,” Kaiba finished. “I’ve been listening to your show. The same one Tea Gardner saw, the one that’s been haunting Ryou Bakura. A thin shape, seen in shadow or out of the corner of your eye. Is that what you saw?”

“And heard,” Joey said.

Another arch to his brow, but his expression remained annoyingly static. “Why don’t you show me your room.”

The apartment wasn’t large, and past the living room and open kitchen was a tiny hall that led to a bathroom and then his room. His bed was pushed to the opposite corner of the window that looked out onto the street. An electric light was outside, the hum of the fluorescent was constant at his window, whose thin blinds let in small slices of the light. Normally at night Joey kept a fan going to drown out the sound, but it sat silent on the desk right now, beside his laptop. He wished, as he watched Kaiba stand in the center of his messy floor, that he’d taken some time to push the dirty jeans into his closet, or hang up the towel that draped over the back of his chair, but Kaiba didn’t seem to mind.

“What did you hear?” Kaiba asked as he moved to the window, peering outside.

“I--I’m not sure.” Joey sat on his bed and gave a nervous glance around the room, as though a creature would jump out from anywhere. “It was just white noise, at first, and then I thought it sounded like whispering. But I couldn’t make out the words.”

“You were asleep?” he continued.

“It woke me up.” He pulled his feet off the ground. Dread crept back at the reminder. “I thought I was still dreaming, but when I opened my eyes I saw--it was there.”

He pointed to the corner of the room beside the window. Kaiba looked, his mouth a line.

“It looked--” Joey struggled to put the words together. “It was tall, and skinny, and its head was round, and it was--I’m pretty sure it was looking at me, and I couldn’t really see it, but it looked like--it looked like it had a single eye.”

Kaiba nodded as he moved to Joey’s bedside, eying the corner. “What was the last thing you did before going to bed?”

“I dunno.” Joey scratched a hand through his hair. “I was editing Yugi’s last recording.”

“What was it?”

“Um, the interview at the police station,” he said. “About the cult in Domino.”

“Of course.” Kaiba let out a sigh. “So before you went to sleep, you were listening to a recording discussing a strange cult, which of course is related to the strange symbol that follows several subjects you’ve also interviewed for your little show, which includes Tea Gardner, who most consistently sees a tall figure with a single golden eye. You were asleep--”

“I was awake,” Joey said, “when I saw it.”

“You were asleep first. Your brain was cataloging what you’d been thinking about during the day, and it bleeds into your consciousness. So you hear a voice--a voice that isn’t saying anything, because it’s part of a dream--and it woke you up, and while you were still in a dream state, you saw something out of the corner of your eye. The images from your dream became part of your reality. It’s just--”

“If you say apophenia, I’m gonna pop you.”

“--pareidolia,” he finished. “We are programmed to see patterns. It’s why you see faces in burnt toast, or the shape of things in clouds. You saw a shapeless shadow, but we have heard, over the past few weeks, descriptions of this shadow creature. Your brain fills in the rest. Of course, lumping in one late night hallucination with the other unrelated stories you’ve collected is the actual definition of apophenia.”

Joey glared at him. “I said.”

A wry smile pulled Kaiba’s lips. “Sorry, I couldn’t resist. Does my explanation make sense?”

“I guess.” Not really. Kaiba glanced at his nervous expression and let out another beleaguered sigh.

“A test,” Kaiba said

He reached up to the light switch by the door, and turned it off. Joey jumped at the sudden darkness, and he grabbed for the closest thing, which was unfortunately, Seto Kaiba himself. The shadows of the room were thin, but they were darkest in that corner, and as Joey’s eyes struggled to adjust to the dark, they seemed to move. He kept a hand gripped on Kaiba’s arm, even as he flicked the light back on.

“Just shadows,” Kaiba said, smugly. He loved being right. “You went to bed thinking about ghosts, and then, in a half-awake state, in the dark of your room, you saw a ghost. A bad dream.”

“Goddamn,” Joey said, and he realized he was still holding onto Kaiba. He released him. “Didya have to do it like that?”

“That took about half an hour of my time.” Kaiba glanced at his watch. “Of course you’re twice as clever as most of the people who come to me, and I was being lazy. I’m going to leave now.”

He turned sharply and vacated the room so fast that Joey was scrambling after him. The clock on the microwave crept closer and closer to _ early morning _ rather than _ late night _, but it was still hours between now and sunrise. Kaiba beelined for the door, and Joey got in front of him.

“Wait,” he said. “Wait.”

Kaiba rolled his eyes. “Don’t tell me you’re still scared.”

“Of course,” Joey said. “Everything that’s been happening--”

“Nothing has been happening,” he sneered. “Your partner’s been digging into things that are long since put to rest. Things that happened a decade ago aren’t _ still happening _, you’re just thinking about them now.”

“People are disappearing,” Joey snapped back. “People are being followed. You have a wall of unsolved mysteries--don’t make that face--and it’s driving everyone crazy. You can give me a thousand rational explanations, but I know what I saw.”

“Then call your friend, if you’re so frightened.”

He shook his head. “Yugi’s already cracking at the edges. I don’t know if he’s been sleeping, and I don’t blame him. This stuff is scary, Kaiba. You’re the only one who doesn’t seem to think so.”

“Because it’s not real,” he said. “I’ve given you my explanation. I don’t know what else I can do.”

“Just--” Joey sucked in a breath and squeezed his eyes shut. “I just don’t want to be in this apartment alone right now.”

He looked, to make sure he hadn’t made a complete embarrassment of himself. Kaiba only levied his gaze at him, shoulders taut, usually perturbed expression still plastered to his face. But after a moment, he only let out a breath and turned his head away.

“Am I sleeping on your couch then?” he asked. “I have a meeting at ten.”

Relief bloomed in Joey’s chest. He grinned at him. “Nah, man. I had like three cups of coffee before you got here. We’re playing cards. You any good at Speed? Or you more of a Texas Hold ‘Em kinda guy.”

“I’ll let you choose,” he said and rubbed his face again. “Is there anyway you can make this feel like I’m not babysitting a toddler?”

“Texas Hold ‘Em it is. I gotta jar of pennies somewhere. Might even be a quarter in there.”

“High stakes then.” Kaiba slipped his jacket off his shoulders. “I’ll take a coffee as well, since you so kindly offered.”

“On it,” Joey said and went to the kitchen as Kaiba made himself comfortable. The night was shaping up to be a strange one on every level, but at least if he wasn’t going to sleep, he wasn’t going to be alone.


	9. Clash at Craft Services! (Kaibaman)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the set of Kaibaman Super Show! (tm), a conflict takes place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a very goofy AU that my friend and I came up with after one too many viewings of the Aquabats Super Show and a minor obsession with Kaibaman. I cannot recommend enough seeking out the Aquabats Super Show. It's all the energy I need.

The day’s shooting schedule had been rough so far. The bright lights made the set unbearably warm, and Seto picked at the collar of his outfit, the heavy fabric of the Kaibaman coat stiff against his neck. The production crew was moving over to the Doctor Dinosaur set, and he took the break to take a water bottle from the craft services table.

He glanced where the new set had been erected, the matte painted backdrop of a country field being lit to a morning glow. The hollowed out puppets of the scapegoats were left rolled on their sides, their serene faces making them look sleepy, and the annoyingly cheerful puppeteer was chatting with Mai in her Danger Woman suit. Kaiba breathed in through his teeth. 

_ The Kaibaman Super Show!  _ ™ was celebrating its fifth season, and its new acquisition was supposed to push it over the top.  _ Joey Karaoke  _ had been a thorn in his side for too long, but now he was part of the regular crew, adding the Joey Karaoke segment, alongside his puppets. The suits had assured him it was what they needed to overcome those stupid Funny Bunny cartoons. Seto wouldn’t have let him in for anything less.

He pulled the helmet off and set it on the end of the table, careful that the ribbons of fake hair fell to the floor. Water bottle procured, he looked over the rest of the food, only to run directly into someone at his left. He raised his head and grimaced at the shiny blue fringed vest and over the top cowboy hat tilted back over the shag of blond hair. Joey Karaoke turned, an apology muffled by a donut stuffed in his mouth, and then he stopped. And stared.

A fineable offense was thankfully censored by the donut before Joey tore it from his mouth. His brown eyes scanned the entirety of the Kaibaman costume, and Seto supposed it would be the first time he’d seen it in person. His already monumental height was given a few extra inches thanks to the boots, and the coat was angled and overdramatic in a way that shot well for TV.

“You’re Seto Kaiba,” Joey said. “Why are you dressed like Kaibaman?”

Seto lifted one cleanly drawn on eyebrow. “Because I am him.”

A laugh bubbled out of his throat, spraying donut bits at him. “No you’re not. You’re the CEO of a major corporation. You’re telling me you play dress up on weekdays to do a kid’s show? You sure you didn’t just lose a bet?”

“I invented the character,” Seto said. “You think I’d trust some unknown hack to bring him to life?”

Joey reeled back, still laughing. The PAs gave a nervous look their way and Seto decided against grabbing his idiot face.

“Oh wow,” he said. “You know they warned me. They said the producer of this was a real hands on guy. This is the wildest thing that’s ever happened how does no one  _ know _ ?”

“Closed set, non-disclosure agreement.” Seto pointed a threatening finger at him. “This information does not leak. My lawyers will come down on you so hard--”

Joey pushed his hand out of the way, still grinning. “I read the contract, man, don’t worry. I can’t believe I didn’t know! God, this is all starting to make so much sense. The spying, the mishandling, the purchase. I had no idea who over here was so obsessed with me—”

“I wasn’t  _ obsessed _ ,” Seto snapped. “It was my producers who decided to absorb your idiotic show into my property. I would’ve rather driven you out of town.”

“You’re so wild!” He grabbed another donut, stuffing that into his mouth. “I was worried this place would be stuffy, you know. Thought I’d be shilling for some soulless corporation, but this is just next level stuff.”

Seto closed his eyes to avoid the spray of crumbs. He reached out, snatching the donut from his hands and crushing it before tossing the remains in the trash. “At least here we have a bit of  _ class _ .”

Joey stared at him. His brown eyes were wide, and his dark colored eyebrows jutted down in an angry v. His grin remained. “Yeah, I can tell. And I don’t know if you should be calling  _ my _ show idiotic. I’ve been watching your dumbass fight scenes.”

“We don’t swear here either,” Seto said, leaning forward to tower over him properly. “This is a children’s show. I know your market is primarily lonely housewives, but we try to keep that in mind.”

The anger stacked on his face. He also raised up, nearly matching Seto’s height. “You got a lot of nerve, guy, when your team came begging me to join. You’re lucky I don’t make this personal.”

“As long as I sign your paychecks,” Seto said with a smirk, “I don’t think you will.”

He wasn’t surprised to see Joey’s fists curl at his side. He wouldn’t be the first disgruntled employee to take a swing at him. They were saved when Mai strutted over, a sunny smile bright on her face. She put her hands on Joey’s shoulder and beamed up at Seto.

“Sorry, boss man,” she lilted. “We’ve gotta get Joey to makeup before we film his big debut. Remember? Where he and Kaibaman become best friends?”

She squeezed Joey’s shoulders, and he gave her a bewildered look, but she shoved him along.

“I’ll see you over there, little J,” she called and waved a friendly hand. Joey gave them both one more look over his shoulders before stalking off. They both watched him go for a minute, and then Mai whirled around to him with a, “What the hell was that?”

Seto cracked open his water bottle. “Language, Mai.”

“You’re supposed to make this a  _ fun _ and  _ welcoming _ environment,” she said.

“He was—”

“Nuh-uh.” She waved her hands over his face. “Fun. Welcoming. Joey Karaoke’s about to join the main cast and become Kaibaman’s best friend. You are going to sell it. Smile for me.”

“I don’t want to.”

Mai crossed her arms. “Do it.”

He sighed and picked up his cheeks, allowing what he hoped amounted to a sincere smile to pull his lips. Her eyes narrowed at him. She tapped her purple boot. Finally, she shook her head.

“If that’s the best you can do, we’ve got our work cut out for us.” She jabbed him in the shoulder. “I don’t want to see any fighting from the two of you, except fighting bad guys, got it?”

“This is my show,” Seto said.

“And it’s my paycheck on the line.” She poked him again. “Do you got it?”

“Yes, Mai, fine. I do got it.” He let his face drop and rubbed his cheeks. “But if he’s going to be that annoying all the time, we’re going to have to rework some things.”

“Good luck with that.” She nodded her head to where one of the  _ Joey Karaoke  _ crew was standing, a tall man in a dark jacket. “Apparently his guy negotiated the hell out of a contract. We do 20 episodes a season and he has to appear in every single one. You’re going to play nice for once.”

“Why am I the one always suffering for this show?” he asked.

Her pretty smile returned, and she smoothed out his shoulder piece. “Like you said, it’s your baby. Now go suffer for your art.”

She turned sharply on her heels and marched towards the makeup department. Seto sighed again. It was going to be a long day of shooting. 


	10. The Principal's Office (Dads)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joey Wheeler, at age 35, is called into the principal's office.

Joey tapped his work boots as he sat in the principal’s office. At 35, he probably wasn’t supposed to feel the exact same way he did at 16, getting called in for fights and whatever stupid bullshit he was getting up into. He was a grown man now. He paid taxes. But somehow the steely gaze of the elementary school principal was enough to make him squirm. At least his son was spared this humiliation. Hart was outside on the playground with the other kids, completely unaware that his dad was getting a talking to.

At least he wasn’t alone in it. The other chair beside his was occupied as well, angled away so there was as much space between them as possible. Seto Kaiba sat their, looking exactly as smug as he always did, with the clean brush of brown hair and the dark tailored suits. His arms were crossed over his chest, one leg over the other. He always carried a briefcase with him, which Joey was starting to suspect was completely empty. He even brought it to the PTO meetings, resting it on his chair when he got up to give his opinion to the already tired assembled. Seto Kaiba had a lot of opinions.

Joey knew exactly why the pair of them had been called in this afternoon, and it had everything to do with the Parent Teacher Night they’d attended less than twenty-four hours ago. Some strong words had been exchanged between the two parents, and despite what Alison Barba was saying, no punches were thrown. The overturning of the third grade science project had been a complete accident. An embarrassing one, one Joey deeply regretted and no amount of ice cream had managed to soothe. Joey wondered how the whole thing had gone over with Seto’s own daughter. He’d probably bought her a pony in apology.

“I don’t need to tell you why you’re here,” Principal Ishtar said. She was a lean, tall woman wearing a head covering, who always spoke like she was making a proclamation. Academic but not unkind, she was the exact kind of woman Joey wanted running a charter school like this. “Your display last night speaks for itself.”

Joey bit down a  _ he started it _ . He was humble enough to admit he was the one who let it get heated, but Kaiba had thrown the first insults.

“Normally I don’t intervene on parent relationships,” she continued. “In the past I’ve been able to trust any conflict was left out of the classroom. But I spoke to several of my teachers, and they tell me this isn’t the first incident they’ve seen from the two of you.”

Joey lifted up his hands. “Things got out of control, teach, but it was an honest accident.”

Her gaze levied on him. He shrunk down in the seat.

“As much as I hate to agree,” Kaiba said, voice smooth and practiced from talking up execs all day, “the event last night has been overblown thanks to our… differences. I can assure you it won’t happen again.”

“Last night you knocked down the third grade class’ garden project after shouting at each other loud enough for our fifth grade teachers to hear.” She spread her papers out on her desk, her gaze not leaving either of them. “Mr. Wheeler, I believe you threatened to, and I quote, ‘knock your lights out of your big head’. You can understand my concern.”

“I wasn’t actually gonna—”

“And Mr. Kaiba, you loudly referred to him as both an ‘oaf’ and ‘buffoon’ and told him to ‘go back to public school’.”

Kaiba hung his head down but made no comment.

“Right.” She glanced down at her papers. “Their teacher tells me Eri and Hart are partners in our reading groups and have been getting along quite well. They’re excellent students who show no sign of conflict with their classmates, so the blame rests squarely on the two of yours shoulders. I’d regret making these children suffer because their parents can’t hold it together, so here is what we’re going to do. First, you’ll apologize—”

“Absolutely not,” Kaiba said at the same time Joey said, “No way.”

“--and then,” she continued, teeth grit, “the pair of you will join our Family Fun Night Committee.”

“What,” Joey said.

“They’ve lost some members recently and could use the help. You’re both already dues-paying members of our Parent Teacher Board. It’s not even difficult, and I know you’re both busy, but donating a few hours of your time twice a year isn’t going to hurt.” She looked at each of them, a smile pulling her lips. “I think it’ll be the perfect opportunity for you to find a compromise. Which won’t start until the two of you apologize. So, Mr. Kaiba, I’d like you to go first.”

Kaiba had lost his defensive stance. He leaned forward, looking a little desperate. “Can’t I just make a donation to the school instead?”

“That wouldn’t really solve the problem, would it?” She nodded to him. “Go on.”

He sucked in a breath and glanced at Joey for half a second before looking away. Slowly, as though in pain, he said, “I apologize for my rudeness.”

Joey huffed out a breath. “Yeah, well, I’m sorry too.”

Principal Ishtar nodded. “Wonderful. The committee meets next Wednesday. I’ll have Stuart send you the agenda. I for one am looking forward to this. I think the two of you are going to become fast friends.”

She dismissed them without further argument, and the door shut behind them. Joey and Kaiba stood outside her office, and Joey eyed him as he started to pull on his jacket.

“Fast friends,” he muttered. “I’d like to see that.”

Kaiba let out an exasperated sigh. “This is going to be a nightmare. At least you haven’t put my daughter’s academic career in jeopardy.”

“Oh, please.” Joey pulled on his jacket collar. “Even if she was stunningly average you’d pay her way into Harvard. I’m trying to give my kid a chance here. At least the principal here isn’t letting you off the hook.”

“She is annoyingly pragmatic.” Kaiba glared down at him. “I think we’ll both be on our best behavior for now.”

Joey gave his sunniest smile, and it hurt his face doing it. “Like she said. Besties now. See ya Wednesday, friend.”

The groan Kaiba let out almost made this whole thing worth it.


	11. Shut Up and Dance With Me (Pacific Rim)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had a Pacific Rim AU I've been fiddling with since I got back into YGO fandom and there were just so many scenes I could've pulled from, but I decided to step outside the box a little. There's just so many dynamics to mess with in any Pacific Rim AU it's too good to pass up.

Seto wasn’t entirely surprised when the Muto brothers chose to sit with him in the mess hall. They were the only ones who did consistently, and with the moving clockwork of the Shatterdome, people stuck to routine. Seto’s routine had become entirely disrupted since the appearance of Joey Wheeler. Now it was test runs and practice sessions and a frustrating number of days in his presence. Further tests had proven the drift compatibility wasn’t a fluke, and a complete system run had been performed with no hiccups, despite their initial run nearly blowing up the Shatterdome.

Seto glanced up now, and he could see Wheeler chating with the techs in the cafeteria line before the twins stepped in front of his view. Yugi didn’t wait for an invitation, setting his tray across from him with a smile. Yami was more reserved, but he joined his brother at his side. Seto always thought the Muto brothers were the perfect choice for the face of the Rangers. They dressed the same, adopted each other’s mannerisms, and so often seemed like two sides of the same person. It was any wonder the Dark Magician was sent into the fray more than any other Jaeger. Even outside the drift, they were in perfect sync.

“Today’s test went well,” Yami said, leveling his gaze at Seto.

“We didn’t break anything,” Seto conceded. “But we’re not getting first call for the next attack.”

“The general’s being ridiculous if he holds the two of you back,” Yugi said, mouth already stuffed full of the mac and cheese. “Ultimate Dragon’s got the most firepower of any of the Jaegers.”

“I don’t think the general is the one holding us back,” Seto murmured.

Yami’s brow wrinkled. “Joey’s doing well for how quickly he was tossed into the program.”

Seto frowned. He hadn’t been thinking of Wheeler. It was his memories that had interrupted their first drift, it was his closed off nature that made things like slugging through sand at times. But he supposed neither of them were doing the hard work there. For the drift to work, they had to open their memories to each other, but it hadn’t done anything to garner a friendship, or even social niceties. Outside of training, they’d taken to avoiding each other entirely.

“They’re measuring the next event now,” Yugi said. “So we’ll know for sure soon.”

“I suppose,” Seto said and looked down at his tray as Wheeler’s shag of blond hair moved like a beacon through the hall towards them.

“What’re you dorks talking about?” Wheeler called as he strode over the table. He dropped his tray beside Seto, not giving him a glance as he sat, instead reaching across to Yugi’s tray. “Where’d you get eggrolls?”

Yugi snatched them up, laughing. “Mai had them.”

“I knew she was holding out on me.” He managed to snag one and crunched down on it. “And I thought she liked me.”

Seto grimaced and leaned away from the crumbs spewing out of Wheeler’s mouth. “She’d be nicer to you if you’d given her a fair fight.”

Now Joey looked at him, though Seto was avoiding the gaze of anyone at the table. “You’re saying I should let her kick my ass?”

“I’m sure it’ll make her feel better, if nothing else.”

Wheeler laughed. “You just want to see her knock me out.”

“It is a pleasant mental image,” Seto said.

He knew both of the Muto brothers were giving him approving looks, which he refused to acknowledge. Yugi’s adoring gaze returned to Joey.

“You’re in a good mood,” he said.

Wheeler shrugged. “I think I cracked this whole Jaeger thing. Kaiba, I got a proposition for ya.”

Seto sighed and turned to him. Joey was grinning widely, chin rested in palm.

“I’ve figured out our biggest problem,” he continued, “and we’re gonna fix it tonight.”

Seto gave him a dubious frown. “I’m going to pass.”

“No, shut up, you haven’t heard it yet.” He flashed a grin at the Muto brothers. “You two are invited too. Tristan and Tea were telling me the techs go off base all the time, and they know a place we would all love to spend an evening. So we are going out, and we are having fun.”

“Absolutely not,” Seto reaffirmed. “I don’t want to know what dive bar the techs frequent or what your idea of ‘fun’ is, Wheeler.”

“We shouldn’t go off base,” Yugi said nervously.

“Why the hell not?” Joey leaned forward conspiratorially. “Raptor and Underwood say the next event isn’t for another twelve hours. They don’t need us and training doesn’t resume until 0600 hours tomorrow, so let’s go.”

“I think it’s a good idea,” Yami said and smirked at Seto. “You could stand to loosen up.”

“Think of it,” Wheeler said, folding his hands out, “like a training exercise.”

The Muto twins gave Seto an expectant look, and he let out a long breath.

“Do I even want to know where we’re going?” he asked.

The answer, of course, was no. Sneaking out of the base wasn’t an issue at all. Technically they needed permission to leave, but Seto was able to give that permission himself, and no one was actually interested in stopping the six of them. Tea and Tristan led the way through the busy streets, Tokyo’s population not hindered at all by the threat of the Kaiju waiting out in the ocean. Neon lights cut across rain soaked streets and the members of the Pan Pacific Defense Corps went unnoticed. They ended up outside what looked like it was once an old storage building, the grate pulled up, and the outside fitted with street art in bold, neon lines. Inside the walls were painted an oversaturated royal blue that glowed with the neon lighting that streaked up and down the support beams. In the center was a bar, burning with yellow and orange stripes that illuminated the signs for cheap beer, and everywhere else there were arcade machines and skeeball and any and all games. A number of excited groups filled up the space, and the heavy beat of the music along the screams and beeps and calls from the games made it the noisiest spot on the block. The Mutos didn’t wait to be told what to do, running to the siren call of a hundred different games. Seto looked in, unimpressed by the display, and Wheeler stood at his side, smiling when Tea and Tristan offered to get tokens for everyone.

“Don’t make that face,” Wheeler said.

“What face?” Seto asked.

“Your face.” He reached up, like he was going to pinch him, and Seto slapped his hand away. Wheeler laughed. “You love arcades.”

“Is this your big plan?” Seto scoffed. “We’ll play Galaga together instead of hit each other with sticks and that’ll make us friends?”

“Oh no, dude.” Wheeler pulled on his jacket, dragging him inside. “I’ve got something much worse planned for that, and I know you’re going to hate me.”

He wasn’t wrong about that, at least. In a corner of the bar they found it, blaring J-Pop and truly bad techno. Two pads stood on a raised stage, and Tea leaned over the railing of one, arms stretched out as she sang, “Ta-da!”

“What the hell is this?” Seto asked.

She raised a hand to the words DANCE DANCE REVOLUTION emblazoned across the machines. “You military boys all think the same. We’ve got to test compatibility, and we choose combat as the primary method? I think there’s a much better way to test synchronicity, but since the general rejected my proposal to teach ballroom dancing on base _ again _, this is the next best thing.”

He looked to the other two pilots, to see if they were as horrified as he was, but Yugi was staring at the machine with stars in his eyes, and Yami was smiling. Tea held out a hand to Tristan, who took it gratefully as he stepped onto the second platform.”

“My first victim.” Tea smiled as she dropped her tokens into the machine. “Of course, neither Tristan nor myself are drift compatible, so all you’re really about to see is me break a man.”

Tristan gave her a pitiful look as he added his own. “You said you’d go eas on me.”

“Oh, Tristan,” she said, picking the song. “We both knew I was lying.”

Whichever difficulty Tea had set it to, it was already too much for the other tech. Tea didn’t miss a beat as her feet stamped against the metal pad, but Tristan’s screen rang with MISSED and FAILED. She threw her head back and laughed as Player 1 ratched up more and more points. Wheeler and Yugi stood to the side, cheering them both on, and when Tristan gave up before the song was even over, Wheeler gave him a congratulatory slap on the back.

“I can already tell,” Tristan said, out of breath, “that we’re gonna need shots for everybody. I’m getting the first round.”

“Don’t--” Seto started to say, but he was already on his way to the bar. He sighed and glanced over at Wheeler, who was watching him, still smiling.

Tea finished her song and spun around, grabbing Yugi’s arm to pull him onto the platform. Yami stepped up to the other one. They scrolled through the selections, Tea leaning over to help them decide. Wheeler moved to Seto’s right, rocking back and forth on his heels as they watched.

“This is a truly stupid idea,” Seto said.

Wheeler shook his head. “I knew you’d say that. I think Tea’s right, and you. We need training where we don’t hit each other with sticks.”

He watched as the song started up, and the twins hurried to hit the right arrows. Yugi laughed as the game admonished him, but they picked up the pace.

“How do you plan to convince me?” Seto asked.

“I got you this far,” Wheeler said.

“If you think I’m getting up there, you’re a bigger idiot than I thought.”

“I get it.” Wheeler shrugged. “You’re scared.”

Seto rolled his eyes. “Really? You think that’s going to work?”

“No I totally understand. You don’t wanna look like a goof in front of us. That’s cool.” He met Seto’s gaze with a perfectly innocent look. “You can be a baby about it if you want.”

His lip pulled back in a sneer. “You can’t goad me, Wheeler. I’m not doing it.”

“Alright, you’re not.” Wheeler turned as Tristan approached with a tray of shots. “Sorry I tried.”

Tristan handed one to Tea, and the two raised their glasses to each other, clinking them together before downing it. Joey waved a hand at the offered tray.

“It’s a stupid game,” Seto insisted. “Playing it doesn’t prove anything.”

“Kaiba,” Tea said as she nodded to the Mutos. “Have you considered that some people just like to have fun?”

“That’d be a first for him,” Tristan muttered into his glass.

The brothers finished their routine, panting and laughing at the abysmal score that blinked across the screen. They hopped down and Yami took a drink from the platter, handing the other to his brother.

“Is Kaiba not going to do it?” he asked.

“Aw, Kaiba.” Yugi pouted at him. “It’s fun though.”

“It’s fine, guys,” Wheeler said. “Kaiba doesn’t hafta.”

Seto stared him down. Wheeler really thought he could just lead him to the worst game at the arcade and they’d be buddy-buddy by the end of it. He flanked him with the Mutos like that was going to work too, like Yugi’s puppy dog eyes and Yami’s smirk still worked on him. And the techs staring at him like he was killing their buzz. Like he was scared to jump on some gamepad. Like he cared.

“This is stupid,” he said and snagged a drink off the tray, downing it in one burning gulp. Whiskey. Taylor was a menace. He grabbed Wheeler by the arm and threw him up on the gamepad.

Joey was looking at him as they dropped in their tokens, the smile a little more sincere. Seto hit random on the machine.

“Think you can keep up?” Wheeler asked as the stage readied itself.”

“Shut up,” was all he had to say in reply.

The inane techno music started up as a pigtail sporting cartoon girl danced across the screen. This was stupid. This was _ ridiculous _. Wheeler thought with one glimpse at his memories that he could just drag him to the nearest video game and he’d be starry eyed. Just because they had half a glimmer into each other’s minds, they weren’t suddenly going to like each other. They weren’t going to be friends.

Arrows started rolling across the screen, easy at first. They both hit the right arrow at the same time on the first beat, and Wheeler let out a laugh.

“You don’t have to look so angry,” he said.

“How would you like me to look?” Seto asked as he slammed down on the up arrow.

“You definitely don’t want me to answer that.”

The arrows were rolling in fast now, which left little time for talking. Tea and Tristan draped themselves over the bar on Joey’s side while the Mutos clustered around him. Tristan let out a wolf whistle, which made Joey laugh so hard he missed the next few steps. As the beat geared up, and the arrows flew faster and faster, it was actually getting harder to keep up. There was satisfaction in hearing their feet hit the pad at the same time, and when Seto glanced over he saw Joey’s face wide with laughter, one hand on the bar as he tried not to stumble, and when his smile turned sunnily to him, Seto tripped on the right arrow and took far too long to get back to the rhythm. Yugi shouted his name in a cheer as he picked it back up. He hadn’t expected to actually get a work out from the machine, but the heavy pace of the music and the voices of those around him had his heartbeat raised and he looked over at Joey right as he hit the machine wrong and slipped, only held upright by his hand holding the bar. Seto laughed, knocking off his own rhythm, and the song ended, their score of an abysmal D popping up.

“That was pretty good,” Yugi said as they both jumped down.

Tea shook her head. “It wasn’t, but at least you were consistently bad.”

“I think we did great.” Joey landed a friendly pat on Seto’s shoulder. “Good enough to go another round.”

“I’ll pass,” he said.

He only laughed again and hooked an arm around Tristan, the two of them heading to the bar. Tea challenged Yugi to a second match, and they climbed onto the gamepad together. Seto stood beside Yami as they watched.

“Having fun yet?” Yami asked.

“Absolutely not,” Seto said, but the smile stayed on his lips.


	12. Digital Zombie (Zombie)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things had gone downhill quickly at the Kaiba Corp labs, but honestly, Seto was starting to expect that. A game gets wildly out of control.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think... this is technically not an AU but I wanted to go with something a little goofier. YGO's got roots in both classic gaming and classic horror, and I decided to lean one way over the other. Also not very romantic, but listen, it was fun to write.

Things had gone downhill quickly at the Kaiba Corp labs, but honestly, Seto was starting to expect that.

Right now, at this exact moment, Seto was a pace behind the rest of Yugi’s little gang (or what was left of it) running across the midway of Kaibaland which he was starting to regret rendering so accurately. He’d needed a closed circuit for the simulation, and it was easy to recreate from memory. Usually he could reliably breeze through, and if he really had to get somewhere there was always a helpful tram or golf kart ready for him. He rarely had to race across his own amusement park for his very life.

Okay, so it was known to happen.

Behind them, right on their tail really, were various mascots, costumed individuals, and a handful of theme park attendants (or what used to be) who were chasing after them. They moved erratically, shuffling into each other, scrambling over trash cans and cotton candy carts, their limbs lose and back arched forward like they were propelling themselves to their intended prey. Their faces were glitched, blurs of blue and red that fragmented and trailed off. The horror movie zombie hadn’t tested too well, so Seto had fiddled with the design. Kaibaland was a family friendly park, after all.

That wasn’t really the problem. The zombies were supposed to be there, sort of. A week ago he’d invited Yugi and his idiot friends to try out a potential new ride at the park, another VR game to fit with the horror themed rides. Sure, sure, the VR stuff hadn’t gone exceptionally well before and they’d only nearly died a few times because of it, but those hadn’t been Seto’s fault. This one he’d programmed himself, tested before he put any person’s brain inside of it, checked and double checked, but he needed the QA, and honestly, if anything was going to go horribly wrong, it was going to be with this group. Better people he trusted to manage it, or who wouldn’t faint at the first sign of trouble.

(Wheeler had nearly fainted at the first zombie, and Seto was holding onto that mental image for a long time, but it wasn’t important  _ now _ .)

Inevitably, it’d all broken down. The level load was having issues, meaning at some point all of the zombies had poured out of every stage, and Seto wasn’t a hundred percent sure what happened when you died in the hub world because Tristan had already sacrificed himself (needlessly) and he hadn’t respawned. Yugi’s arms weren’t long enough to reach the maintenance hatch in the Blue Eyes Adventure, and Tea and Seto had to hold Wheeler down to keep him from running straight into the horde after him. They were currently sprinting to Adena’s Castle, past the 30 foot statue of himself (also glitching, the face a mass of grey pixels) and the stone Blue Eyes White Dragons (unglitched, but the jaws of sharp teeth and strong claws attributing to the overall mood). The zombies were close behind them. Tea took the lead, a broom yanked from a janitor’s closet in her hand, and she swept it into the face of a zombie that lurched out from behind the pedestal, knocking it to the ground. Joey was in the middle with a pipe clutched in his hands like a baseball bat, and he swung it at anything and everything, including Seto a few times. Seto was unarmed. He’d had to bypass every security lock and open every hatch for the group. He did hold in his right hand what looked to be a flat screen phone. As they came to the wide entryway of the castle, currently blocked, he held it up to the doors as the other two flanked him, weapons raised.

“This sucks,” Joey said, a mantra he repeated again and again. “This sucks, this sucks, this sucks.”

“Hurry up, Kaiba,” Tea snapped and swung again as one of the glitch zombies got too close.

“Give me a minute,” he growled and started tapping buttons. Technically they couldn’t enter the castle without collecting keys from the three other stages, but those had been summarily forgotten after the first wave had crashed in on them. His administrator password was met with an error code. He tried again.

“This  _ sucks _ ,” Joey said one more time as his pipe bashed into the head of one of the glitches.

“It’s not working,” Seto grunted and slammed his fist against the door, as though that would do anything. He started to override.

“I can’t believe we’re gonna die in stupid Kaibaland,” Wheeler groaned.

Tea made another sweep as the horde moved closer. “Are you surprised?”

“You’re not going to  _ die _ ,” Seto said. Which he was pretty sure was true. Admittedly, from his hud, he could see that Yugi and Tristan hadn’t actually woken up yet, which was concerning. Because the real problem was what was happening right now. The rush of adrenaline, the fear, the certainty as the mob moved closer that they were going to die. Seto was never really satisfied with his hologram or virtual reality technology. He always valued realism, a fully enhanced experience, down to the last detail. When he’d fiddled with the KC tech last week, he’d tweaked a few things. What was a game like this if there weren’t real stakes? If it could be breezed through, knowing the most you lose is a couple of tokens? So he repeated it for himself as well. The game couldn’t kill them. The zombies couldn’t get them. It was just their brains, tricked by a computer, making them think this was the end.

“We are  _ absolutely _ ,” Wheeler said, slamming the pipe against another zombie, and then another, “going to  _ die _ . Tea!”

Seto turned around right as she was grabbed, the glitch faced Dark Magician Girl holding tight onto her arm. That was the boss of Stage 1, her and the Dark Magician, who lugged a staff not far behind, a little tip of the magical hat to Yugi, and maybe Seto thought it’d be funny if he had to fight his favorite monster. It was a lot less funny as Dark Magician Girl held tight to Tea, who struggled and kicked and screamed as her arm started to glitch first. She moved to wack her with the broom and was caught by another zombie, and another. Tea was disappearing as she took damage. Wheeler lunged for her, but Seto caught him by the collar, yanking him back as the door unlocked.

“Your game sucks, Kaiba!” Tea shouted as her edges frittered away into digital dust. “You suck, Kaiba!”

Her wail of his name trailed off, and the heavy castle doors slammed shut behind them. Joey landed on the ground with a groan, and Seto dropped down to his knees beside him, panting hard. He made a few notes for himself: tone down the physical responses, for one. He hadn’t felt this winded since the last time he ran around with these idiots.

Wheeler was spitting mad as he staggered up and slammed his shoulder into the door. It did nothing, didn’t even make a sound. The game wanted them to move forward. Seto glanced at the hud, which informed him the zombies were still outside, though they couldn’t break into the castle, so that was one problem off their list. Tea’s HP was a red bar, with a skull over her icon. Her real world pod was still sealed, alongside Yugi and Tristan. Definitely concerning.

“They’re dead,” Joey said.

“They’re just not awake.” Seto stood slowly and looked around. The stage was lit, with the usual cheerful torches that made up the castle now lit a spooky green, which made the red carpet that trailed the entrance up the grand staircase almost black. In the actual castle were statues of fairies and tapestries of dragons, but here they were turned to gargoyles, with the dragons looking down with open maws at the two survivors. Seto admired his own handiwork for a moment.

“What the hell do we do?” Joey asked.

“We have a moment to breathe.” He fiddled with the hud. “The level isn’t active yet.”

“Why do you always have to make things that try to kill us?” he groaned.

“Technical issues,” Seto said. “This one at least wasn’t intended to kill you.”

Joey closed his eyes. “Oh, that makes me feel better.”

“I’m fairly certain,” Seto said slowly, and he was, like, 80% certain, “that if we finish the game, the whole of it will reset. We’ll be able to leave the pods, and then I can start doing repairs on the game, and tone down the realism. Then we can try again.”

He snorted out a laugh. “There’s no way in hell I’m ever stepping foot in one of your games again, Kaiba.”

Seto gave him a smug smile. “I highly doubt that.”

He was pretty sure Wheeler was going to deck him, but he didn’t, only raised up the pipe and dropped it into his other palm like a batter at the mound, an annoyed grimace on his lips that edged too close to a smile. Despite Seto’s best attempts, he was getting along with everyone in Yugi’s social circle, Wheeler included. If he wasn’t careful they were going to start calling each other friends.

“So how do we finish the game?” Joey asked.

“If we’d played it correctly,” Seto said, “we would’ve unlocked the castle with three keys and entered into a boss battle. We defeat the boss, we hit a switch, and then we win.”

“What switch?”

“That one.” He pointed up the staircase, where a window displayed a large screen, and beneath that a pedestal with a comically large switch on it. “It’s possible, in the mode we’re in now, we can just hit it and it’ll reset.”

“Alright,” Joey said. “That’s easy. That’s easy, right?”

“In theory.” The hud was alerting him to another issue. The boss wasn’t generating, that was good, but a side event was releasing a new flood. “We should move quickly.”

“What’s going--”

Wheeler didn’t get his question out as the first zombie burst through the side door. They exchanged a single glance before both of them raced up the stairs to the switch. The horde came in all at once, pixelated fingers grabbing at them. Joey swung wildly as they raced up the steps, and Seto grabbed onto the switch. The screens behind it came alive with an old fashioned TV flicker, and the face of the Technomancer (original character, trademark, try getting him to pay the licensing fee for that, Pegasus) peered through at them as he launched into his boss speech. Seto ignored it to the best of his ability as he pulled on the switch with all his might, only to find it absolutely and utterly stuck.

“Do it!” Joey shouted over the rising cacophony. The groans of the zombies mixed the cackling laughter of the Technomancer, with the 8-bit style stage music that was now pouring in, with the heavy thud of their heartbeats as they were surrounded on all sides, and a flash of light in the center of the stage showed the Technomancer appearing in person, hovering above cleverly placed pitfalls he could be tricked into to take down his health. And then with a shout from Joey as his pipe was grabbed out of his hand, where it pixelated and disappeared. He staggered back to Seto’s side.

“Help me!” Seto yelled, and they both grabbed the switch together. He didn’t have time to remind himself  _ this wasn’t real _ not with the hundreds of zombies reaching out to them, and the frankly annoying cackle of the Technomancer high above, ready to rain down a lightning attack, not when the two of them were squeezed together, hands over the other as they pulled with all their might and slowly, at the tiniest fraction of an inch, it started to move.

“If we don’t die I’m gonna kill you,” Joey growled through his teeth.

“I,” Seto grunted, “would love--” It was moving inch by agonizing inch. “--to see  _ that _ .”

And then it heaved into place, and they both let out a breath before the stage started to shake, the pillars and castle walls starting to pixelate and shake away, revealing the clean rose colored walls of the castle beneath, the zombies fading away into pixel dust, and a crack in the screen letting them know that problem was dealt with too. There was a whole final celebration sequence, and Seto removed the hud and held a finger down on it, fast forwarding them through to the end screen. It displayed in large letters in the center of the stage CONGRATULATIONS. A ditty played over it, and Seto held his finger down again, before the whole of it went black.

For a moment, Seto was worried that the pod still hadn’t released them, and that they were just stuck in the end screen for him to figure out from the inside, until he heard an air release. He lifted his hands up and pulled the goggles free, blinking and squinting in the white walls and bright fluorescents of the Kaiba Corp labs. The other pods were also open, and across from him he could see Joey picking up Yugi off the ground in a hug while Tristan helped Tea out of her pod. Seto sat up as well, noting that his legs were still sore, his lungs still breathing deep. Definitely need to adjust the interface. He felt like he’d run a marathon.

He didn’t have time to dwell on it, not when Joey shouted, “Kaiba!” It was loud enough for the building to hear, and in the next beat he had Wheeler’s arms hooked around his shoulders and his head ducked down as Wheeler gave him an affectionate noogie. Seto sputtered and shoved him off as he tried to step out of the pod, only to wobble and grab onto him again.

“You were a beast, man.” Wheeler slapped him on the back, and Seto glared at him before standing straight.

“He was useless,” Tea complained. “We did all the work.”

Seto smoothed down his shirt and pretended his face wasn’t beet red from Wheeler’s manhandling. “You did the heavy lifting, I’ll admit.”

“Remember when you told him to go to hell.” Wheeler tapped his knuckles against hers.

“Your game does suck,” Tristan said, rubbing his shoulder, likely where he got hit earlier. “I’m not doing that again.”

“Once the glitches are fixed there won’t be any problem.”

“Okay,” Wheeler snorted. “Sure.”

“That was a workout,” Yugi said. “I’m starving now.”

Tea placed a hand on his pointy head. “That doesn’t surprise me. Burger World?”

The others smiled and nodded. Seto started to remove himself from the group and was stopped as Wheeler’s arm hooked around him again, squeezing him close in a display of camaraderie.

“Moneybags is buying, right?” he said and grinned at him. “Since you traumatized us again?”

He sighed. “I’ll send Roland to--”

“You’re not coming with us?” Yugi gave him the most pitiful look. One day that wasn’t going to work.

“I love when you drive us around in your dumb car,” Joey said. “Rolling into Burger World like a million bucks. Think of all the chicken nuggets you could buy.”

“I’m not--”

“That sounds nice, actually.” Tea did a stretch, probably just to be dramatic. “I’m exhausted now.”

“I could go for it,” Tristan said. “Is anyone else also really thirsty?”

“I really should--”

Joey’s smile was a dare, like now he couldn’t back down. “Are we doing it or what?”

Seto sucked in a breath. All four of them were looking at him. Joey still hadn’t released him. He had so many numbers to go over, adjustments to make, long strings of code to fix, and he wanted to take this information while it was fresh and do something with it.

Instead he said, “Sure.”

Joey punched his shoulder in response, a friendly action, and the others headed towards the lab doors. Seto picked Joey’s arm off and let it drop.

“You really aren’t going to play any of my games again?” he asked.

Joey made a show of considering it, his eyes focused on the ceiling as he bobbed his head back and forth. “Maybe. It was pretty fun.”

“I’ll have to make an easier difficulty for you,” he said. “Or maybe a baby mode, if it’s too scary.”

The next punch was equally soft but not as friendly. “You’re gonna eat those words, Kaiba.”

He latched onto the competition, a welcome balm to the too amicable display. “We’ll see.”

And strangely (maybe), Seto was very eager to see.


	13. Party Hard (College)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seto Kaiba, in his third year of college, goes to his first house party.

A wild drunken house party wasn’t Seto Kaiba’s usual spot on a Friday evening, which wasn’t a sentence that made him sound particularly cool, but a true statement nonetheless. Seto was starting to suspect he wasn’t very good at the whole “college experience”, not even with his third year nearing its close and his prospects for post-graduate work already lining up. He hadn’t stayed in the dorms his first two years, and he hadn’t gone out of his way to join any school organizations, and he hadn’t even really made friends, which wouldn’t bother him, because his Fridays could be spent occupied by his own interests, but at a party like this another person would be a helpful buffer.

The point was, Seto Kaiba was feeling a little lost amid the crowd of excited college students, and it wasn’t a feeling he was used to. He held a red solo cup he paid five dollars for that was filled with a cheap beer he had no intention of drinking. Loud music played in the living room where an impromptu dance floor was filling the space. Three girls sat on the floor of the kitchen, one of them holding a watermelon in her lap. Two boys had started a wrestling match in front of the refrigerator that looked friendly but wouldn’t take much to get out of hand. Seto escaped to the backyard, and he found a quieter space, where groups of people stood talking. They all seemed to know each other, and their circles left little room for any newcomer.

Seto resisted the urge to slink into a corner. He didn’t even really know what he was doing here. He moved past the fairy lights that decorated the porch and into the less lit grass, never mowed or tended. The patio furniture out here was blessedly empty, a small miracle in the otherwise busy house. He suspected the music had something to do with that. When a song came on, a lot of people had cheered. He sunk down onto a wooden bench that was settled in front of a pit fire, currently unlit thanks to the warm weather. This wasn’t that different from slinking into a corner, but he relished the relative quiet of the outside, the soothing night compared to the overlit house. No one was looking at him. No one could suspect he didn’t know how to enjoy a party. It was strange to feel so self-conscious here. If this were any other scenario, he’d be the loudest, most obnoxious person in the room. He was good at that. Any one of his classmates could attest to it. He debated, for a minute, getting up and leaving. It was a more in character move than showing up at all.

Before he could make up his mind, a familiar voice called his name in surprise, and he turned to see one of his classmates walking towards him. Joey Wheeler did not look out of place at this party. This, in fact, looked like his natural environment, with the easy way he smiled, and the casual stance he always took. He also held a cup in his hand, and it was easy to imagine him passed out on some frat house lawn after a wild night just like this one. His expression was guarded, as it usually was around Seto, but good spirits kept his lips curled up in a smile. He came to the back of his chair and leaned over.

“Yugi’s not here,” he said.

Seto looked anywhere but him, so he didn’t know he was caught. “I don’t know why you presume I care.”

He grinned. “So you didn’t overhear me telling him about Duke’s shindig?”

Seto’s nose wrinkled, but he said nothing. Joey kept smiling and he walked around to sit beside him on the bench, sipping his own drink.

“I guess you’re here ‘cause you’re such a sociable person,” he continued. “I shoulda known you were a real party dude. It’s why you’re sitting here, all by yourself, holding a beer you haven’t touched--”

“I’m amazed,” Seto cut off quickly, “at your powers of perception. Have you been watching me, Wheeler?”

“I didn’t know if you wanted to start shit.” His smile didn’t dim. “But if you’re just here to party, I can leave you to it.”

“Please.” He managed a haughty lift of his chin. “You’re the one who seems desperate for attention. I don’t see any of your friends around.”

Joey nodded towards the house. “Tristan’s hitting on girls inside, Duke’s playing DJ.”

“I’m surprised you’re not with them,” he said.

He shrugged and took another sip of his drink. He eyed Seto, and suddenly he was leaning forward, bringing his knee up on the bench to get more comfortable. 

“Is this your first party?” he asked.

Seto rolled his eyes. “As you said, I’m known for being outgoing and social.”

He pointed down at his cup. “Do you really wanna drink that?”

“Why?” Seto asked suspiciously.

He held out his hand, making a grabbing motion with it, and with a sigh Seto handed it to him, only to balk a moment later when he dumped it into the grass. Joey shoved his own cup into Seto’s hand, and he was surprised to see inside was only Sprite. The clear carbonated beverage was still cool, cooler than Seto’s own beer which now soaked into the grass.

“I thought you’d be drinking with the others,” Seto said.

Joey crumpled the original cup and let it drop to the ground. “I don’t. ‘Sides, someone’s gotta look out for these bozos. There, now you look cool without having to worry about it.”

Seto frowned down at the cup, and he laughed.

“I promise, no colds or diseases.” Joey lifted up his hands. “It’s a peace offering, dude. You’re not the only one hiding out at a party.”

Seto glanced down at the drink. “I thought you’d be happy to waste away your evening at a house party.”

He shrugged again. “I don’t know why you’re calling it a waste when you’re here. You really stalked Yugi to a party you don’t even wanna be at?”

“No,” Seto said, when the answer was closer to yes. He’d first met both Yugi and Joey in his sophomore statistics class and found them equally annoying, but Yugi was on the same academic track as he was, which meant he’d never really been able to shake him. Yugi invited him to study groups, to lunch between classes, to the library to work on their projects together. Seto resisted, but he had to admit this was turning into some kind of a friendship. The problem was Seto had never had friends before. And he’d spent so long turning down Yugi, he wasn’t sure how to pursue that friendship.

Joey’s arm was now propped against his knee, and his chin in his hand as he looked at him. He had the same expression he did in class when he was thinking on a problem. Seto would normally muse how vacant his expression was, but in this moment chose not to.

“How do you party, Kaiba?” he asked. “Whatdya do for fun?”

“Why do you want to know?” Seto asked, defensive.

“Come on.” He nudged him with his toe. “Rex and Weevil have weed in one of the bedrooms. No? You don’t strike me as the dancing type neither.”

Seto shook his head, and Joey laughed. 

“I know what you like,” he said with a waggle of his dark eyebrows. “Duke’s definitely got some board games in a closet around here. We could get a game going easy. I bet you feel real cool when you beat people at Clue.”

Now Seto was starting to smile. He sipped the soda, and it left a fizzy aftertaste on his tongue. “I don’t know how well that would end. Last I recall, we both get competitive.”

“Oh my god,” he groaned, head flopping over. “You’re so boring, Kaiba.”

“You can always go back to your friend.”

He snorted. “He doesn’t need me playing wingman for him. Have you  _ seen  _ Tristan?”

“You don’t go chasing tail for yourself?”

“Not in that scene.” Joey’s grin stretched wider. “Did you really just say ‘chasing tail’?”

Seto was grateful the dim lighting would hide his flush. “However you refer to it. Who do you normally direct that attention?”

“Are you asking me who I think is hot?”

“No.” No amount of darkness could save him from how red his face was.

Joey hadn’t stopped laughing, and he hung his head in his hand. Seto tried to look away, but there wasn’t anywhere else to go.

“You’re so weird,” Joey said, in an affectionate way. His smile remained sunny, and Seto realized this was the first time he was seeing him relaxed, at least in his presence. He hadn’t realized the affect he had on Wheeler this whole time.

“You should tell me who you think is hot,” Joey continued and peered over the back of the bench at the few outside stragglers. “I bet I could wingman you some action.”

“I don’t think so,” Seto said, trying to hold onto his dignity. “I don’t think you’re prepared for that. I don’t think I’m prepared for that.”

“Don’t tell me that scares you.” Joey shifted closer. “I thought you were made of iron.”

“I’m not  _ scared _ . I just haven’t--” He sucked in a breath and sat up straight. This conversation was getting wildly out of control. “I’m sorry if I don’t go around throwing myself at every available body in my path. Some of us aren’t practiced at that sort of thing.”

“Do you wanna be?”

“What?”

“Practiced,” Joey said. “I can see you getting all stiff like when Yugi knows an answer you don’t.”

“I’m sorry,” Seto said, jaw set and tone warning, “if I don’t have the most experience in this area. Not all of us could be juvenile delinquents.”

The bite didn’t take. Joey didn’t even look offended. He tilted his head at him. “It’s super easy, Kaiba. Ask me if I wanna make out.”

“Why?” he breathed out.

“Just do it.”

With another roll of his eyes, Seto deadpanned, “Do you wanna make out.”

He laughed as he leaned forward, his hands moving to either side of Seto’s face, and he said, “Only if you want to.”

Seto froze, his gaze moving down to Joey’s lips, and then his next exhale was caught by them. Joey’s mouth was soft, and warm, and encompassing, and Seto fumbled momentarily for what to grab onto. He settled on digging his fingers into Joey’s shirt. Spurred by this, Joey’s fingers threaded into Seto’s hair, and he shifted forward so they were pressed closer together. The warmth of the evening combined with the heat coming off Joey, and if Seto’s face was red before he was sweltering now. He didn’t know what to do, but that didn’t seem to bother Joey, who guided Seto’s mouth with his. And then suddenly he pulled back, and Seto was left gasping humid air as Joey looked up at him with big brown eyes.

“Is it okay?” he asked.

“What?” Seto’s fingers were still twisted in the fabric of his shirt, tight enough that it lifted off his hips to expose the tan skin underneath.

“I’m trying to help you have fun, Kaiba.” He smiled. “You can tell me if you’re not.”

“I’m--” Overwhelmed. Shocked. Lost, a little, in the new sensations, but Seto didn’t want to say any of that. “I’m just not used to it.”

Joey’s hand brushed through his hair. “We can stop.”

Embarrassingly, Seto tugged on his shirt to pull him closer. “I thought this was about practice.”

He grinned. The sight was unbearable. “That’s what fooling around is for.”

Seto mustered up the last of his dignity, though he knew it was flying out the window. “How am I doing so far?”

“Pretty good.” He ran his thumb across his jaw. “You gotta  _ relax  _ though, Kaiba. Come here.”

Seto let him draw him close, and he really did try. Inch by inch he tried to let his limbs relax, but then Joey’s tongue brushed the line of his lips, and Seto was reeling again. The carbonation still left a buzz on his tongue, and his hands pressed the exposed skin beneath his shirt, earning a soft breath from Joey that felt like a victory. Despite the beer Seto felt drunk as they continued to kiss, and he lost track of the party, the noise, everything, until he felt something thump against the bench. He yanked back, ducking his head down as Joey looked up. Seto shared several engineering classes with Tristan Taylor, and the two recognized each other too easily, judging by the surprise that passed over Taylor’s face before he grabbed his friend’s shoulder.

“We’re ditching to get some food,” he said, jabbing a thumb back to the house.

“Yeah, cool,” Joey said. “Lemme grab my keys. Kaiba, you wanna come with?”

Seto didn’t have to look at them to guess the expression on his friend’s face. He only shook his head, not ready for words. Joey was only inviting him to be nice, to make him feel like he wasn’t about to be ditched, because he wasn’t, he was the one who’d crashed this party, and Joey was only entertaining him to assuage his own boredom. He wiped his mouth and glanced down to see the cup of Sprite had also been kicked over in their fumblings and still fizzed across the ground. It felt like the perfect metaphor for the feelings bubbling over in his head.

“Okay,” Joey said uncertainly. “You sure?”

“I’m perfectly fine,” Seto snapped. He welcomed the venom on his tongue. It cut through the light-headedness like a bitter knife. “Go.”

Tristan made a silent motion with his head, and Joey stood up. Seto didn’t relax until they’d both walked away, and he could see their heads ducked together. Seto closed his eyes and counted down from a hundred. The party raged on in the house, a thousand miles away. That was fine. Once he was done, he stood as well, taking his own car keys to leave. Everything was fine. He could get in his car and drive back to his apartment and pretend none of this had happened, that he hadn’t been here tonight, and the other idiots would probably play along because what else were they going to say? Seto Kaiba didn’t go to drunken house parties, and he certainly didn’t kiss people like Joey Wheeler.

Even if he couldn’t quite shake the bubbly feeling on his tongue, or the warm imprint on his lips, or the heat that flared against his face, it was all going to be fine.


	14. The Serpent's Jaw (BoTW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jou and Seto wait on the Hyrule Bridge for something to happen.

The sun had set beneath Hyrule hours ago. Jou knew this because he had watched, eying from atop a pillar the way the lake around them reflected the light back, painting the scenery in golds and purples before finally setting into night. Jou had climbed down, and he had kept watching the lake, but when it did nothing, he climbed onto something else, and then climbed down again, and now he was pacing back and forth on Hyrule Bridge as the moon crept higher in the sky. They were easing towards midnight. Night surrounded them on all sides.

His only companion for this journey didn’t pace. Seto sat perfectly still, so still Jou had worried he was sleeping at first. He’d gone over to kick him, which had resulted in a shouting match, until Jou backed off and climbed the tall sides of the bridge, eying over the water. Seto continued to sit.

Jou hated Hyrule. In the storybooks it was a mythical place with green trees on all sides with good kings and beautiful princesses and brave knights, but now it was a strange land. Purple ooze poured up from the ground and the castle was swept in a miasma that seemed impenetrable. It was bad enough with the bokoblins and moblins that paces the old structures, but here they had to worry about the guardians as well, the strange pot shaped machines that Seto was obsessed with. He stopped at each one, removing parts if he could or just examining it. Most of the ones they came across still slept, but Jou still nursed the burn on his left arm from where one had woken up and been thoroughly pissed. He didn’t feel safe on the bridge, with the lake on either side of them. He’d pulled a rusted sword from one of the ruins, and Seto carried a staff, but he used it more for poking things than he did defending himself.

Which was to say, Jou was on edge, and he felt alone in that for how quiet Seto was being, which was starting to annoy him.

“It’s not happening,” he called from where he was perched on the rail of the bridge.

Seto considered this the same way he did everything, by staring dead ahead and ignoring Jou.

Jou tried a different approach and shouted, “I think you were wrong!”

That got his attention. Seto glared at him as he approached. A breeze was kicking up around them, and Jou dreaded the thought of more rain. The journey here from Akkala had been hard enough without the weather constantly impeding them.

“ _ I _ wasn’t wrong,” Seto said, and Jou rolled his eyes. Over the last several days of travel, he’d come to understand most of Seto’s tones when he spoke. There was the quick-paced and excited patter of a new discovery, and the exasperated and exhausted drawl when he was getting tired of a conversation, but mostly it was this, smacks of hard vowels that let everyone in the room know that they were the idiots, and he was the only one with any sense.

“All I did was add up all the stories we’d collected,” he continued, unfettered by Jou’s bored expression. “Ancient tales and first hand accounts and that stupid gossip magazine the Sheikah girl reads, so if anyone’s  _ wrong _ it’s them.”

“So why isn’t anything happening?”

Seto’s chin went up, a sure sign he’d reached a logical conclusion. “The same reason the rest of this stuff ends up being untrue. It’s made up, or just silly folk tales. I still can’t believe we left the guardians unchecked for a thousand years because we couldn’t figure out what ‘magic’ drove them. It’s not magic! They’re made of technology-- _ good _ technology that we can stand to learn from--not waving wands and making wishes. If all this were real then why haven’t the fairies shown up to help us, or the spirits, or the--”

“Kaiba,” Jou said, unsheathing his sword, “shut up.”

He did, and that was the real testament to their travel time together, because a week ago he would’ve barreled on through. But something  _ was _ happening in the lake. The water around them was glowing bright and shining like the sun was rising out of it. At the same time, Seto and Joey scrambled up and raced to the edge of the bridge as the light expanded all around them. The green and gold color or it lit Seto's eyes with wild fascination as the water broke, cleanly, like the ripple from a pebble, and the dragon rose from the wake.

Jou couldn’t hide his excitement either as the beast lifted up into the sky. The wind around them raised with its presence, and pouring off the dragon's scales were balls of electricity that floated serenely through the air. It didn't burst into the sky but climbed like a snake rising from the grass. It's head alone was as tall as Seto, its eyes pointed upward, with two long ears folding back against its mane. A pair of long horns glowed with the same electricity as it raised its head to the moon. It took no notice of the onlookers.

The two didn’t move for a minute as the great beast rolled into the sky. Later, Jou would appreciate the silence from Seto for what it was: the shock of new discovery, the awe of one of these stories come to life. But in the moment they both could only stare, until Jou felt Seto stir beside him. Seto raised an arm up, his fingers stretched, and Jou almost gasped as he reached to touch the dragon. Seto brushed the scales, and a small flicker of electricity sparked against his hand. He jumped back with a gasp, and Jou laughed, squeezing his hand as he pulled him back. The dragon didn't even flinch.

"We need the scale," Seto said, still staring.

"Oh yeah!" Jou blinked, and he scrambled up the pillar, hitching up on top so he stood unsteadily and removed a bow from his back. Seto followed behind, not as quick at climbing, but he gazed at the dragon. Jou slotted the arrow and drew back the bow.

"Don't miss," Seto said.

He snorted. "It's not even ten feet away."

"Don't miss," he repeated. 

Jou narrowed his eyes. Of course Seto thought he would miss. He met the arrow fly, and it struck against the hide of the dragon. Light sparked from its side, and they both watched as the scale burst off, floating down into the water below. Seto reached over the edge of the bridge, and in only a minute he had it in his hands. The scale was shining and hard, curving into a spaded end. Seto held it reverently, and Jou slid down to his side.

They didn't say anything as they watched the dragon lift off into the air, it's tail wavering behind it like a banner. Even as it grew smaller in the sky they stood back in quiet reverence.

"Which one was that?" Jou asked as it trailed towards the Gerudo Highlands. 

Seto blinked away, carefully wrapping the scale and tucking it into his bag. "Which dragon?"

"Yeah. You said they have names and stuff."

"Uh, Farosh. Named for the goddess of courage.”

Jou nodded. "Cool."

Their task was completed, but Jou settled on the edge of the bridge, letting his feet hang over, still watching the sky. After a moment, Seto joined him.

“You really don’t believe any of those stories?” Jou asked as the moon started its curve down.

Seto sucked in a breath. “Obviously some of them have basis in fact, we’ve seen the lynels and the Zora, but the tales of great heroes and kind spirits are just that. Stories. We’d be better served understanding the real things right in front of us than chasing fairy tales.”

“Even now that you’ve seen a dragon?” he asked.

Seto didn’t respond. Jou smiled and leaned against him. Seto didn’t protest. The journey had been long, and he was suddenly very tired. It wouldn’t be good to camp on the bridge, but he hadn’t started to worry about that yet.

“Why do you read all those stories then?” Jou pressed. “If it’s all fake, why do you care?”

Silence again. Annoyed silence, which Jou was also used to, but it simmered slowly as they watched the thin trail of the dragon disappear into the sky.

“They’re still important,” Seto said finally. “They still hold our history. And if they hold even an ounce of truth to them…”

He didn’t finish his sentiment, and he didn’t need to. The two of them settled into silence, side by side, and watched the sky.


	15. Soliloquy (Theatre Kid)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seto Kaiba struggles with a performance, and luckily Joey Wheeler is there.

The Domino High theater was strange to be in after school hours. Small sconces circled the rows of seating, shedding dim triangles of light against the dark walls, and the stage, which sat in half circle with a red curtain on either side, was lit with only a single spotlight. It made the space eerie in a way Seto hadn’t expected. The half-finished sets were leaning back, with ladders and various tools still left littering what would be the castle wall. Seto stood on the stage, furtively flipping through his copy of  _ Hamlet _ , highlighted, tabbed, and codified. The rows and rows of empty chairs watched him.

It’d be easier with people, he decided. He thrived on that sort of attention. It didn’t matter with an audience, but alone, with only himself and his script, he couldn’t quite capture what he was going for. It felt goofy and silly to moan about on stage when it was just him, like he was playing pretend in his bedroom. But he’d borrowed the key from Miss Valentine to get a little extra work in, because he couldn’t admit to anyone else in the theater club that he just didn’t get it. It felt silly to say.  _ Our Town _ he’d managed to capture the melancholy and decline, and he’d gotten so into Audrey II in  _ Little Shop of Horrors _ that Miss Valentine had told him to stop scaring the freshmen, but Shakespeare was a whole other beast. It was like it was written in code, and it was so dull half the time he’d lost track of what was happening. He’d managed to fudge his way through the reading so far, but he knew he was losing grip on it.  _ Hamlet  _ was supposed to be about a descent into madness and a man locked by indecision, but he couldn’t find the right way to say the words.

Seto liked theater. He was good at it, like he was good at everything, but it offered him a special satisfaction that made him want to do more. But now, faced with a frustration that seemed insurmountable, the only proper response seemed to be to lay down on the ground and face oblivion. He did so, putting his script over his face like he could absorb the context via osmosis.

His existential crisis must’ve been why he didn’t hear the door open, or the footsteps, but he did hear the voice above him ask, “Hey, are you okay?”

Seto sat straight up, sliding the script shut. He was surprised to see Joey Wheeler standing over him, a flannel shirt beneath his jean jacket, hands tucked into his pockets, eyes narrowed not in their usual anger but in concern. He’d caught Seto in a state, which was embarrassing enough on his own.

“What’re you doing here?” Seto accused.

He gestured back to the set. “I told Miss Mai I was gonna work on the set a little, since we’re behind. What’re you doing here?”

“Practicing,” Seto said.

“What, the death scene?” Joey nudged him with his toe.

Seto scrambled to his feet. “No. Just--go away, will you? I’ve got work to do.”

“We both do. Can’t you practice at home or something? Why’d you gotta take up the whole stage?”

“Because.” Seto sucked in a breath. “It’s just easier if I’m in the space. It’s not the same doing it in front of my mirror.”

Joey nodded. “Well I’m gonna make some noise.”

He narrowed his eyes at him. “Are you sure you should be here? I don’t think teachers generally let kids in after school to play with power tools.”

“But you can be here?”

No, probably not. Seto supposed they both required adult supervision while on campus, but he rarely let those kind of rules worry him. Besides, he was trustworthy, and had only pissed off three of his teachers this year, and Joey was some kind of delinquent who got called into the school office twice a week. He half suspected Joey was assigned to set building as a sort of community service.

“It doesn’t matter,” Seto said quickly, and then he stopped to consider him. He’d had such difficulty playing to an empty audience. Joey may have offered him a solution to his problem. He pointed to a seat in the front row and said, “Sit there.”

Joey laughed. “You can’t boss me around.”

“You don’t have to do anything.” He opened his script to the page he’d bookmarked. “I need you to sit there while I get this down.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You’re gonna perform for me?”

“Can you just--” Seto tried to turn his grimace into a smile. “Please, just, do it.”

Joey rolled his eyes, but he hopped down off the stage and took a front and center seat, leaning back as far as the seat would let him and crossing one leg over the other. Seto let out a breath, and he took his spot on stage. He took a moment, waiting for Joey’s chair to stop creaking, and for the hum of the lights to become white noise, and for the dark of the theater settle around him.

“ _ To be, or not to be _ ,” he began, “ _ that is the question: _

_ Whether ’tis nobler in the mind to suffer _

_ The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, _

_ Or to take arms against a sea of troubles, _

_ And by opposing end them? To die: to sleep; _

_ No more; and by a sleep to say we end _

_ The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks _

_ That flesh is heir to, ’tis a consummation _

_ Devoutly to be wish’d. To die, to sleep; _

_ To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there’s the rub; _

_ For in that sleep of death what dreams may come _

_ When we have shuffled off this mortal coil, _

_ Must give us pause: there’s the respect _

_ That makes calamity of so long life; _

_ For who would bear the whips and  _ scorns of time… God, this is so…”

“I feel like I should have some popcorn,” Joey called.

Seto ignored him, peering down at his script. “This is the part that always messes me up.”

Joey got up, leaning over the edge and resting his head on his arms. “You’re just reciting it.”

He frowned. “Because it’s so hard to understand. And what do you know anyway?”

“I watched that one with David Tennant.” He grinned up at Seto. “I can’t believe you’re struggling with Shakespeare. I thought that was Theatre 101.”

“And I suppose you’d have no trouble at all.”

“Lemme see.” He hoisted himself up and made a grabbing motion for the script. “I thought you’d be all over this. It’s all existential and crap.”

Seto eyed him as he handed it over. “Why do you know so much?”

He shrugged as he folded the page back. Seto had never seen Joey Wheeler paying attention in class, if he made it to class in the first place. He sat in the back with his friends and spent the whole time doodling on his notebooks, or kicking his feet, or being a general nuisance. It didn’t seem likely he’d spent any time studying the classics. But he held the script out like it was Yorick’s skull, motioning Seto to step back. Seto decided the best thing to do was take a seat at the edge of the stage.

“To be, or not to be,” he started, and Seto was surprised that he didn’t barrel through the recitation. He spoke slowly, softly, as though musing through it. “That is the question. Whether ‘tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, or to take arms against a sea of troubles, and by opposing end them? To die. To sleep. No more. And by sleep to say we end the heartache and the thousand natural shocks that flesh is heir to, ‘tis consummation devoutly to be wished. To die, to sleep. To sleep, perchance to dream. Ay, there’s the rub, for in that sleep of death, what dreams may come? When we have shuffled off this mortal coil, must give us pause. There’s the respect that makes calamity of so long life, for who would bear the whips and scorns of time?”

Seto watched as Joey’s face changed, the goofiness going out of it, replaced with a melancholy, a heartfelt rending of indecision and consequence. His hands moved closer to his chest, and he pulled his shoulders in, constricted by doubt.

“The oppressor’s wrong?” he continued. “The proud man’s contumely? The pangs of despised love, the law’s delay, the insolence of office and the spurns that patient merit of the unworthy takes, when he himself might his quietus make with a bare bodkin? Who would fardels bear, to grunt and sweat under a weary life, but that the dread of something after death, the undiscovered country from whose bourn no traveller returns, puzzles the will and makes us rather bear those ills we have than fly to others who know not of. Thus conscience does make cowards of us all. And thus, the native hue of resolution is sicklied over with the pale cast of thought, and the enterprises of great pith and moment with this regard their currents turn away, and lose the name of action.”

Joey finished the speech with his fingers curled in his hair. With the light behind him, it glowed like a halo around his tanned and freckled face. In his loose flannel, with his dirt stained fingers, he looked as far from Hamlet as any costume department would allow, but his face perfectly displayed stress and frustration and fear, until he turned to Seto, his lips pulling back up into a grin.

“How’d I do?” he asked.

Seto stared at him, but the longer he kept silent the more likely he was to take it as a compliment, so he said, “Fine.”

He huffed a breath and tossed the script back to him. Seto caught it with only a slight fumble, and he smoothed down the spine as he considered it. Joey still stood over him, his usual easiness returning. Seto flipped over the pages.

“It’s easy anyway,” Joey said, digging his hands back into his pocket.

“For you.” Seto sighed and closed the booklet. “How did you do that? I’ve never even seen you awake during a literature class.”

“‘Course not. School stuff is boring.”

It was all the answer Seto was going to get. Joey dropped down next to him, kicking his feet over the edge. Seto shook his head.

“But all you do is set work,” he said. “It seems like you could do more.”

“What, join the chorus line?” Joey sucked in a laugh. “Besides, I like doing the sets. Tristan’s there, and it feels like I get to goof off for an hour after school.”

“But you’re here. You’re paying attention. You have to enjoy theater. You could--”

“Nah,” he said, casually, but it felt like a brick wall. “You know what the kids on my street would do if I started getting all fancy on stage? Sets are easy, though. Makes me feel useful.”

Seto’s fingers curled into his palm. He struggled to understand it, to be good at something and not be the best at it too. But there were things he said that made sense.

“Will you,” he said slowly, “let me practice on you some more? So long as you’re working, I mean.”

Joey nudged him with his elbow. “You think I can give you some tips?”

“You wish,” he scoffed. “I need something to bounce off that isn’t a blank wall, and you barely qualify.”

Joey only nudged him again before climbing to his feet. Seto turned the pages over in his book. He hated to admit it, but he was already standing on firmer ground. He supposed an audience of one was still an audience. And if it meant spending a few hours in the presence of Joey Wheeler, well, he’d just have to suffer for his art. 


	16. Little Red (Werewolf)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seto Kaiba goes for a walk in the woods.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is also part of the Nocturnal Me verse and previously written but I really like it and I wanted to play around with the monster man aspects of werewolves so here we are.

Seto appreciated the nights when he felt good enough to walk the forest around his property. His strides away from the thin shadow of his home reminded him of the evenings he took for himself over a century ago, and the natural forest paths winding through the dark trees to a lake. He liked to take that walk, lose his worries to the careful plodding of his footsteps, and find a place that was dark and cool. Many nights he brought Mokuba with him, and they sat at the lakeside like old times. Tonight he walked alone.

The new moon left the starry sky feeling somewhat empty, but he wasn’t betrayed for the lack of light. It was sometimes easier to see the darkened forest with just his eyes. The thin underbrush was alive with prey animals, rabbits that ran past, and squirrels hurrying over trees. They recognized him for what he was, not just an invader into their dwelling, but a predator at that. He could hear their movements underfoot, the thin padding of little feet, the heavier breaks of the many deer that populated the forests of Coward’s Creek, and the bugs that fluttered, crept, skittered, and crawled in the dirt. Many were visitors to his garden, and he liked to know them each.

There were other things in the woods, though. He wasn’t the only predator out tonight.

Despite the calendar creeping out of the winter months, it was still cool, and the air wasn’t yet heavy and wet. His footsteps were quiet on the dark soil, covered in nettles and leaves. Above him birds fluttered in the trees, and their occasional outburst shook the branches above him as they flew screeching into the sky. He followed the shape of their wings through the moonless night. Their patterns carried them away from the forest, back to the light of civilization.

The night should be lonely and cool, but Seto found the air charged with an unusual energy. It quickened his pace, though he was careful of the forest floor. The tall trees pulled roots from the dirt, making waves and turning the pathway uneven. So long as he had his cane, Seto rarely struggled with balance, but he took longer steps, kept his eyes focused on the trees and the branches. His skin itched with the thought of someone watching him, and he turned. Only the rodents and the birds.

He’d gotten used to walking Texas countryside over the years. On his property he worried some about coyotes and foxes picking off his chickens, and he’d learned the tricks to keep them away. Wild hogs were less common around town, but there were places near the creek beds where he’d run into them. There was the occasional bobcat, and many a snake. Rarely did they bother him. It was why it bothered him now, the feeling of eyes at his back.

Seto had come to this part of Texas knowing he wouldn’t be touched. There was comfort and nostalgia here, but there was safety too. Coward’s Creek had become special to him, a home he’d never made before. It was  _ comfortable _ . That word hadn’t meant much to him over the years, but it was. He knew every back road, he’d seen every restaurant built, he’d watched generations grow, he’d made it his own.

Nothing out here was scarier than him. It meant he kept his windows open and doors unlocked. It meant even as a local legend, he wasn’t bothered by the way people stared at him. It meant he could walk these woods without fear. He’d walked back here a hundred times, and there was only one night each month that he avoided it. And yet, tonight, the empty sky above, the dark limbed trees all around, the hair on the back of his neck was raising.

A rabbit skittered through the underbrush past him. He heard another bird call and saw in the trees ahead a cloud of them rise and veer away. Seto paused and listened. The creatures here lived within an ecosystem, but tonight something disturbed that. He tried to focus, but the quickened heartbeats of the prey animals and the noise of the forest made it hard.

Seto considered turning back, just for a moment. It’d be easier to return to the safety of his home, to the warm lights that poured from his windows, to the comfort of the familiar. But he wasn’t about to be scared out of his own backwoods. He steadied on.

Maybe it was the distraction, maybe his focus was everywhere else, but the path wasn’t opening up around him. He kept going, his cane guiding him through the heavy underbrush. The feeling of being watched didn’t leave him. His chest tightened but Seto walked, not faster but wider. The sounds of the forest were quieting. Nothing ran underfoot here, and even the sound of the cicadas dropped away. Suddenly Seto had no trouble at all spreading out his senses and hearing the heartbeat behind him. Steady, heavy. The air was tight with anticipation.

Seto stopped. He turned. He saw the thing standing there.

Tall and wide, the beast watched him, little more than a shadow blending in with the trees. Even with his eyesight, the thing was jet black, its features hard to understand. Tufts of fur bristled gently in the evening breeze, the snout of the thing long, its neck stretching out into broad shoulders. The edges of it blurred into shadow, but Seto could just make out the thick limbs, the wide stance, and the knife like claws. Two eyes stared at him, and in the darkness, they were discs of red.

The creature started forward, and Seto took a single step back. Trees blocked his vision, and as the creature moved, weaving between trunks and shadows, its limbs jerked, its jaw pulling back for a flash of yellow teeth. Seto could hear the thin snap of muscle and bone, and with each tread it seemed to change, appearing here and there curved forward or limbs bent. And then it was there, at the edge of a tree, the shadows thick over the top of it. He tensed, fingers curling around the cane, and the creature stepped forward.

Bare human feet were half-covered by torn jeans, threadbare and familiar. A broad human shape stood there instead of a beast. The creature stepped into the thin evening light, and the two red eyes were now a comforting brown.

“Hey,” Joey said.

Seto huffed out a breath, and his tension released all at once. He felt silly suddenly. The werewolves in Coward’s Creek were never any danger, but he made a point to stay out of their way. The new moon caught him off guard.

“What are you doing out here?” Seto asked, and he knew he hadn’t quite shaken the anxiety by how guarded his voice sounded.

“Sorry,” he said. His head stooped forward, and he scratched a hand through his blonde hair.

“It’s a new moon.” Seto gestured vaguely above them. “Are you out here alone?”

He shook his head. “Mai’s taking me out. She said changing outside the full moon might help me feel--I don’t know. More in control of it.”

Briefly, Seto tried to listen for more heartbeats, but it was only him and Joey, who wasn’t wearing anything besides the ripped jeans. Joey stepped closer, smiling a little as he did.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said.

Seto stiffened. “I wasn’t scared. I was  _ surprised _ .”

“Okay.” He stood right in front of him. “I think I ditched Mai by accident. Your place is pretty close, yeah?”

He nodded slowly. It occurred to Seto that his house wasn’t what Joey had sensed out here.

“I was taking a walk,” Seto said. “But I think I got turned around. There’s supposed to be a lake.”

Joey picked his head up. “I saw that. It’s not far. Did you wanna walk there together?”

Seto smiled and extended a hand to him. Joey’s brown eyes lit up as he held it, and gently he pulled him along to lead the way. The forest remained quiet around them. It was the only time Seto had been out here and felt the quiet. Joey’s palm was broad against his, and Seto could see the shine of sweat on him, leaves and twigs in his shag of hair, his breathing heavy, probably from running, and Seto tried not to stare at the way his bare chest expanded.

“Is it going well?” Seto asked in the quiet, and Joey looked at him. “You being a werewolf, I mean. Is it helping?”

He shrugged. “I think so. Mai and everyone have been really helpful.”

“You don’t often look like that, do you.” His gaze traced Joey’s outline, seeing the hints of his shape in the creature.

“Mai says it’s easier to just be a big dog.” Joey shook his head. “I wanted to try it. See if it made me feel more… human, I guess.”

“Did it?”

He shrugged. It was as good an answer as Seto was going to get. Joey tugged his hand through the treeline, and they came to the clearing with the lake. It was broad, its surface clear. The croak of frogs and cry of birds quieted. Neither of them moved as they stood there, hands still clasped together. Seto let out a breath of relief. Few things calmed him like the image of placid water, even with all the horrible things that had happened. Like many places in Coward’s Creek, this place felt comfortable and familiar, even more so with Joey’s hand holding his.

“Admit it,” Joey said, amusement coloring his voice. “I scared you.”

Seto gave him a look. “I wasn’t expecting to see a werewolf tonight, no.”

He only grinned. In the stretch of his jaw, in the point of his teeth, there was still a touch of wolf to him. Seto leaned over and pressed his lips to Joey’s. He blinked in surprise before returning the affection. The kiss was soft and sweet, and Seto could’ve stayed there much longer, but from somewhere far off, a howl sounded up from the trees. Joey pulled back, eyes turning to the forest. Even in the open night, they glinted bright red.

“That’s Mai,” he said, just a little disappointed. “I should head back.”

“Enjoy the rest of your night.” Seto pressed another kiss to his cheek. “If you’d like, you can come by tomorrow. Since you’re so eager to spend time at the house.”

Joey turned his grin back to him. “Are you sure you wanna invite a big scary wolf at your door?”

“I think I can handle it,” Seto said, smiling back.

He laughed and gave him one more messy kiss before he turned into the trees again, offering a wave goodbye. Seto watched him go. The moonless night left little light to reflect off the lake, and Seto went about making himself comfortable. It only took a few minutes for him to hear a second howl, closer than the last, and then the answer call. Something about it was calming. Proof, Seto supposed, that he wasn’t alone out here.


	17. Chocolate Cake and Other Happy Things (Burger World)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> October and I came up with this Burger World AU where Seto bounces from Kaiba Corp and gets a job at Burger World to take care of his brother. This ended up not really being about Burger World at all, but I wanted to write something nice, and a little snapshot into their lives ended up being exactly what I needed.

It was the end of a long shift at Burger World, but Seto didn’t know if he’d ever experienced a shift that didn’t seem to last an eon. He had a working theory based on the principle of relativity that he and Ryou had tested on several occasions, usually on the slow hours between the lunch rush and workers getting off at five, when their manager Keith was napping in the break room in the back. Today spent especially long, he knew because he was waiting to leave. No matter how many times he watched the clock tick closer to three, he couldn’t will it any faster. The warm, sunshine day had propelled a larger crowd to the red vinyl booths of Burger World to chow down on the grease covered burgers, but it had finally tapered off. Seto was distracted taking an order for a particularly rowdy group of teens enjoying their summer break that he didn’t even notice who was standing behind them. As they bounced off to take up a booth by the windows, Seto put on his best customer service face to take the next order and was halfway through the usual  _ welcome-to-burger-world-how-may-i-take-your-order _ when he realized the customer in front of him was in fact his boyfriend.

“You didn’t do the chicken greeting,” Joey said with a pout. “That’s my favorite one.”

Seto’s eye drew to the clock. “If Keith isn’t out here I don’t have to do the insipid rhymes.”

“I just like hearing you do your sexy voice,” he said, propping a chin on the counter.

“It’s my customer service voice,” he said dully. It was a relief to let the smile drop from his face. He swore it gave him headaches.

Joey waved a dismissive hand. “Whichever. You’re almost done, right?”

“Fifteen minutes,” he said. “Do you want a drink?”

“Yes please,” he said with a grin, and Seto handed him a cup before going to call out the orders that plopped down beside him.

It took seventeen minutes to actually leave, and they waved goodbye to Ryou as Joey took his soda with him. Seto wore a jacket over the red Burger World shirt, wishing desperately he didn’t smell so heavy of grease and fried meat. Joey had dropped his bike at the apartment before taking the train to walk with him, and he’d had a chance to shower after a morning acting courier for Domino City. Seto leaned into the clean smell of his shampoo as they walked the few blocks to the grocery store.

“You still work tonight?” he asked.

Joey shrugged. “Hard to get anyone to cover a midnight shift at the convenience store, but I don’t go in til after eight. Is that okay?”

He nodded. “We’ll have plenty of time.”

“Serenity’s looking after the kid at least.” Joey breathed in as they walked into the air conditioned market. “I don’t know why you wanna cook when you’ve been at the grill all morning.”

“Today’s special,” Seto said simply, and he picked up a shopping basket.

Joey gestured to the bakery section they were strolling past. “Mokuba’d be plenty happy with a store bought cake.”

Seto shook his head as he hooked his fingers in Joey’s sleeve, pulling him along. “It’s his birthday, Joey. I’m going to make him something special.”

“Last year I got those cupcakes for you,” Joey said, “with the Blue Eyes rings on top. You loved it.”

A smile pulled his lips. One of the plastic rings had been saved, carefully washed of the fluorescent icing, and remained on the table next to their bed.

“Of course I did,” he said. “Mokuba has more discerning tastes.”

Joey rolled his eyes and followed him to the baking section. Rows of packaged flour was neatly boxed beside the bags of sugar, and as Seto looked over the list he’d jotted down last night, Joey became distracted by the wall of sprinkles, icing, and pastel food colorings.

“What’re you making?” he asked as he picked up a jar of rainbow sprinkles.

“Chocolate is his favorite,” Seto said. He placed the flour and sugar in the bag and reached up top to take the cocoa powder as well. “Will you get some chocolate frosting for me?”

Dutifully Joey went to the cans of frosting. “You’re not gonna make that from scratch too?”

“I could,” he said as he piled in the chocolate chips. “Would you like me to?”

Joey only shook his head, and Seto returned to picking up the ingredients he needed. He gave Joey some more items on the list to gather, and together they went through the checkout line. Joey carried the grocery bags for him as they made their way back to the apartment. Their shared place had started off so empty and small to Seto, and now everywhere he returned there was something, a little gift one of them got the other, or Mokuba’s artwork stuck to the fridge, the remnants of the morning’s quick breakfast shared between the three of them, the shoes by the door, the toys both Joey and Seto liked to collect. Little things that grew. Seeds planted in a garden that was finally blooming. Despite his tired feet and the grease smell sticking to his clothes, Seto was happy to come back here and tidy the living room, or help Joey with dinner, or sit with Mokuba as he fought with his homework. It was the first time Seto felt at home.

So he didn’t mind taking the time to bake his little brother a birthday cake. He scraped raspberry jam into the mixing bowl and poured the batter as Joey scooped frosting into his mouth. Seto chased him out of the tiny kitchen with a rag but let him return once the cake pans were set in the oven. Joey stuck the whole mixing spoon in his mouth as Seto washed the dishes. The two of them could barely fit together in the small space, so Joey sat on the counter as he ate the leftover batter.

Seto had to kick him out again to decorate it, and he was placing the last raspberry as the front door opened, and Mokuba raced through, Serenity not far behind. She hugged her brother in greeting.

“Oh my god,” she said as Seto brought out the cake. “It looks amazing.”

Joey grinned at his boyfriend proudly. “He’s too good.”

“Ryou gave me the recipe,” Seto said humbly as he placed the cake in front of his brother, but his chest expanded with the satisfaction of a job well done. “Happy birthday, Mokuba.”

He grinned up at them, sitting upright in his chair. Now, sixteen he’d started to sprout like his brother, and he kept his hair long but usually braided these days. His smile was bright and sunny, and it was moments like these that Seto could remember why he spent his days working fast food. Mokuba deserved this, a home, a family, a carefree life not bogged down in political drama and business etiquette. Seto had always promised he’d do anything for his little brother’s happiness. He finally felt like he kept that promise.

There was singing, and Mokuba blew out the candles before cutting the largest piece of cake for himself. They sat on the couch together and talked, and Mokuba opened his presents (a pair of new shoes from Joey, a charm bracelet from Serenity), and even when Serenity left they remained, Joey leaning back with his arms around Seto, Mokuba lounging half-asleep beside him. The clock ticked later and later. Joey kissed Seto’s cheek as he started to get up.

“Do you have to go?” Mokuba moaned as he rolled over.

“Sorry, kiddo.” Joey ruffled his hair, and he batted his hand away. “Was it a pretty good birthday?”

He stretched and nodded. Seto patted his head and followed after Joey as he went to get his keys.

“I work the morning shift tomorrow,” he said mournfully. “I think we’ll miss each other.”

“But I’ll be here when you get back.” Joey wrapped his arms around him. “We could go to the park. I bet Mokie would like that.”

“I think I’d rather stay in,” Seto said and kissed him. Joey responded with enthusiasm, as he always did, holding him closer. Seto ran his fingers through his hair and hummed against his lips. He murmured, “You’re going to be late.”

“You’re the one who always starts.” Joey kissed him again before reluctantly letting him go. “You can’t blame me when you start talking all sexy.”

Seto shoved him. “The voice I use for work isn’t for the bedroom.”

He grinned. “If you say so.”

“Are you two being gross?” Mokuba called from the couch.

“Busted,” Joey said and shouted back, “Happy birthday, kid!”

Seto shoved him again, and he waved to the both of them as he headed out the door. On the couch Mokuba was sitting up, picking at the last of his cake with a fork. Seto sat beside him, and he scooted in closer.

“One more present,” Seto said, and Mokuba looked at him.

“I got enough stuff,” he started, but Seto was already removing the square box and handing it to him. With a sigh, he pulled at the blue wrapping paper and opened it up. His hands paused as he pulled the top away, and slowly he lifted out the framed picture. It was from a day a few months ago, the three of them inside the shark tunnel at the aquarium. Joey was leaning away in surprise as a shark flitted by, Mokuba and Seto leaning together and laughing. Beneath that were more pictures: Joey teaching Mokuba to ride a bike, Seto and Ryou in Yugi’s kitchen, Mokuba and Serenity drinking hot chocolate with snow all around them, goofy selfies taken waiting for the train, moments of happiness caught in time.

“We’ve never had very many pictures,” Seto said, and his hand drew to the locket he still wore around his neck. “Or happy memories, if I’m being honest. But I think that’s changed.”

Mokuba smiled at him. “You gonna make a scrapbook?”

He shrugged. “Maybe.”

The casual conversation was betrayed by the way Mokuba’s voice wavered and Seto’s eyes watered. Reverently, Mokuba set the framed picture back on top.

“Thank you,” he said. “For everything.”

Seto nodded with the certainty that with everything he’d ever done, in this moment, it’d all been worth it. 


	18. The Train Job (Western)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seto Kaiba plans a train heist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It turns out I really like westerns? I didn't know! But I've had fine writing southern style stories with these kids over the past year and thought I'd try my hand at a classic. As with many of these, I'm just going, so it sort of became a beast of its own. But isn't what NaNoWriMo is supposed to be?
> 
> Warnings for guns and violence.

The night air was surprisingly cool this evening as the night sky stretched out over the small Texas town. A town existed not so far away from the train depot, thin lights stretching through the trees, sleepy and peaceful. Only a few men were stationed at the depot as the half-moon rose high overhead, but still there was activity, people preparing the railroad as the small train came closer. It was only passing through, unloading a shipment before continuing on its journey, miles from anything at all.

It was one of the most startling things about Texas, Seto thought. It was so flat out here, and empty. The wide stretches of land between the few towns and cities that spotted Texas felt insurmountable at times, as though the landscape itself was drawing him further and further from his goal. But, as the train pulled into station, he never felt so close. Finally,  _ finally _ . He reminded himself as he clutched his hand tighter on his cane that he had to be patient. Getting ahead of himself now would only let this opportunity fall from his fingers.

Beside him, his companions started to move. Hired hands, paid on a promise at this moment. Outlaws first and foremost, the only people who would take a job like this. Seto wished he didn’t have an audience for what was about to transpire, but he needed them, another gun to keep anyone from interfering. They were young, like him, which was probably why they’d taken his half a chance over nothing at all. He hadn’t taken them for much at the time. Yugi seemed their defacto leader, a short Japanese boy who took to everything like he was solving a puzzle, and the others--Joey, their muscleman, Tristan, who had access to explosives, and Tea, who’d proven quite the quickshot--followed along for the amusement value more than the perks. They’d been gung-ho over the idea of a train robbery. It worked for Seto. He didn’t need to say much to convince them at all.

Their outlaw gang watched a moment as the men moved around inside, showing papers and chatting as they stretched their legs. Seto remained still, but the four beside him were moving. They each carried a pistol, except Tristan who held a rifle between two hands. The weight was unsteady on Seto’s belt, but the risk of not carrying one was too high. The expressmen would be there to do their jobs. Seto had planned this carefully, hoping for minimal bloodshed, but he couldn’t rely on the people inside the train to sit still and let them work. He only hoped they could work quickly enough.

The platform cleared, and the engineer entered the front of the train. Seto glanced to Yugi, who nodded and said, “Go.”

They moved quickly, with only the empty Texas night and the shadow of the train as cover. Seto watched as Tea and Tristan slipped into the front car. They continued on to the express car, left open so it could be unloaded. Yugi slipped in silently, and Joey waited back, offering a hand to Seto to help him into the car. The space was mostly empty, only a few large crates for shipments, and a safe made of dark metal and meant to be open by key. The two thieves rounded it.

“You sure about this?” Joey asked. In the otherwise silent night, his voice carried too loud for Seto to be comfortable.

“Now’s a poor time to question it,” Seto snapped, quietly. “I told you, this train carries the payroll for Pegasus’ workers out west. Knowing the man there’s probably a few valuable trinkets he couldn’t stand to leave behind. You open the safe, you have all the payout you’ll ever need.”

“We just have to get it open.” Yugi kicked it with his foot. “The expressman’ll be back soon. If we can’t get the key off him, it’ll be up to Tristan.”

Seto was aware that Joey was watching him. He’d been the most vocal opponent to this idea, only because he found Seto so untrustworthy, and Seto had to admit he’d given him reason to. Joey questioned how much he knew of Maximillian Pegasus, and how little they knew of Seto. But Seto remained quiet. If he told them his actual goal of this venture, he didn’t know if they’d be so willing. He could trust their desire for gold, and to get this far, that was enough.

Seto’s eyes drew to the door that led to the train car behind this one. From the outside it looked like a passenger car. The others hadn’t questioned it. But as Seto stood in front of the door, his heart pounded in his chest. They had gotten this far, and it was not far enough.

His hand reached for the handle, but before he could grip it, there was a sound behind them, a surprised noise from the expressman, who’d lifted himself into the car. He reached for his rifle propped against the train wall, but Joey was quicker. Seto flinched, expecting the shock of a bullet, but instead Joey struck his pistol against his head. The man went down, a shout on his lips. Joey wasn’t quick enough with his second strike to keep his alarmed cry quiet, but finally he slumped forward onto the ground. They waited a moment, breath held. No one else came out.

“Tea’s gotta have the engineer held up by now,” Yugi said. “Tie his hands and feet, and then we’re moving.”

Joey hoisted the body out of view of the open train and let it fall to the ground. He motioned Seto over to help him, and begrudgingly he knelt down, using his cane for leverage. He was unfocused in his task, and another noise startled him, but it was only Tristan arriving.

“No key on him,” Joey announced.

“You just wanna see me do my stuff,” Tristan said with a grin. He twirled in a gloved hand a stick of dynamite. Seto eyed it warily.

“An explosion won’t be so easily silenced,” he said.

“We’ll have to be ready to move.” Yugi removed his own pistol. “I’m gonna get in position to signal Tea. Don’t blow off any fingers, okay?”

Joey nudged his friend. “We strongmen get to carry the loot.”

“You’ll let me know,” Yugi said, giving him a significant look, “the first sign of trouble.”

Joey nodded. So his concerns hadn’t gone unheeded by their leader. Seto supposed his cards would be played soon enough, but he didn’t concern himself with that now. Nothing he’d said to the others was a lie. So long as things went smoothly, they’d have their money, which would gloss over his actions well enough. He didn’t expect trust out of train robbers.

“Alright,” Tristan said as Yugi slipped back to the front of the car. “Let’s get this party started. Whatdya think I should buy your sister with my share, Joey?”

Joey huffed out a breath as he watched the entrance of the car. “A casket to bury you in.”

“Real funny.” He stuck the dynamite and removed a pack of matches. “Seriously, she more a jewelry kinda gal or flowers?”

Seto ignored their back and forth as the explosive was prepared. Time was running out. He gripped the gold handle of the door to the next car, and he pulled it open as Tristan lit the match, and Joey turned. Seto ignored the shout in his direction, stepping from the cold and metal express car to the warm light of what looked to be a bar on the other side. On either side of him were two booths stitched with a maroon fabric that matched the frilled fabric that hung over the windows around him, both accented with a pastel pink. Gold sconces on the wall were the only light, and a twelve dollar bottle of wine had been opened and left. It was the sort of excess Seto had come to expect of Pegasus, so even traveling quickly by his own train, he couldn’t be without his petty comforts. Another door led to a sleeping car, and at this midnight hour he could imagine its occupants safely cocooned in slumber. He started toward it and was promptly yanked back by Joey as the door slid shut behind them.

“What the hell are you doing?” he asked.

Seto grit his teeth and pulled free. “You should join your friends.”

“You’re gonna get us killed. This is your plan.”

“It is,” he said, “and I have something else I need to retrieve.”

“Hell no.” Joey’s fingers curled in his shirt, and Seto was reminded of the swiftness with which he took care of the expressman. “We stick to the plan. We don’t get paid if we’re  _ dead _ .”

Seto raised a hand to grip his wrist, but they were interrupted by the explosion from the next room, which rocked the ground beneath them. The sound was sharp and loud and left Seto’s ears drumming as he struggled to stay stead on his feet. He used the distraction to shove Joey away, and he started again to the sleeper car, but this time he was interrupted by the door on the other side opening. The doorway was filled with a familiar shape, tall and willowy. A single eye narrowed at Seto as he saw him, the other hidden behind an eyepatch laced with gold. Maximillian Pegasus stared him down.

“Seto Kaiba,” he said, voice filled with disappointment. “I’d rather hoped you were dead.”

The first gunshot sounded from far off, and beside him Joey flinched. He was half-turned towards the express car, torn between the current conflict and helping his friends. Seto wished he would go. It would make this next part so much easier. But his breath caught in his throat as another shape appeared behind Pegasus. A young boy peered in, his dark hair tied back, dressed loosely in his bedclothes. His eyes went wide, and he shouted, “Seto!”

Seto hadn’t prepared himself for his reunion with his brother. Pegasus had attempted to have them both killed, to remove the remaining heirs to the Kaiba company, and when he failed, he’d discarded Seto and trapped Mokuba as his ward. Seto had kept himself alive the way he always had, through grit and a stubborn refusal to fall, and he’d gathered the only resources left to him, and he had clawed his way back here in the hopes with the dream of murdering Pegasus right where he stood, but one look into his brother’s face and he could only manage, “Mokuba.”

His little brother grinned widely, but Pegasus kept in front of him. More shots rang out behind them. Joey, to Seto’s right, was suddenly a bundle of raw nerve, but it still surprised him when Pegasus stepped forward, and he raised his gun.

“You’ll hand my brother over,” Seto said calmly and tilted his head to his compatriot, “before things get messy.”

“They already are, aren’t they?” Pegasus considered the pair, his usual all knowing smile on his lips. “Train robbery, Seto, really? It’s a little cliche.”

Anger made his skin heated, but Seto kept his face calm. “Your coffers won’t suffer much for this.”

Pegasus’ good eye focused on Joey. “How much do you think you’ll make from this? If you make it out at all. It sounds like my boys are doing quite a good job. I’d run while I still could.”

The gunfire drummed in the air, erratic as Seto’s heartbeat. Joey’s arm didn’t waver.

“I don’t know what the hell’s going on,” Joey said, “and I don’t give a damn. We’re leaving,  _ now _ , with the kid.”

Pegasus only smiled. His stance was too easy for being held at gunpoint. Seto prayed his nerves didn’t betray him, but each shot outside was a ticking clock, letting them know they were out of time. He could feel Joey beside him, vibrating with the desire to help his friends and the imperative to stay here. Seto wondered, if Pegasus came towards them, if Joey would actually shoot.

The question didn’t have a chance to be answered. For the second time that night, the train moved underneath their feet, but this was preceded by the sound of the engine roaring and the wheels shifting. The train was moving, not quickly, but enough to knock the passengers off balance once again. Seto held tight to Joey’s arm to keep from falling, and Pegasus was momentarily ruffled as he grabbed onto the door to keep steady. Mokuba took his opportunity, running past the man to throw his arms around Seto’s waist. As the train started to chug along, the passengers steadied themselves. Seto placed a hand on his brother’s head, and Joey stepped back, dragging the two with him, as he reached for the door back to where his partners were. Pegasus moved quickly towards them, and now Seto raised his gun. He stopped. He placed his hand on the bar as the train shook.

“Even if you do escape,” Pegasus said, voice frustratingly calm, “I wonder what it will change. The Kaiba corporation is effectively absorbed into my own businesses. You have no home to return to, no money to your name. It’d be so much simpler if we came to an agreement.”

“I don’t care,” Seto growled. “If the Kaiba name disappears forever, I don’t care. But if you touch my brother again, I’ll kill you.”

“We gotta move,” Joey said quietly. “Seto, we gotta move.”

He was breathing through his teeth, pistol trained on Pegasus’ face. Seto could face the hundred indignities that Pegasus heaped upon him, he would take the blame for all the things he’d done, he would happily see the Kaiba name rot in the grave he’d dug, but Mokuba shaking in his arms, afraid and left alone for so long, Seto wasn’t able to forgive.

Joey opened the door, and the rush of wind startled him. Now he could hear the shouting, caught on the wind and carried away. A gunshot hit the side of the car, and they all ducked instinctively, Seto’s gun faltering. In the next moment Pegasus was moving towards them, clutching something in his hand--a wine opener made of twisted metal that glinted in the low light--and by the time Seto had seen it, Pegasus raised it over his head, and Seto flinched, pulled Mokuba out of the way, and then watched as it struck into Joey’s shoulder. He shouted, dropping his gun as his hand flew to cover the wound. Pegasus whirled on Seto.

“I so don’t like to get my hands dirty,” he said mournfully, “but there are some loose ends that need to be tied.”

“Shit,” Joey shouted, and added, “ _ Fuck _ .”

“Don’t--” Seto started to say before Pegasus gripped him by the wrist and shoved him back, taking the gun in an easy movement. His back hit the doorway as the tracks rattled beneath him. The gunshots were dying away as the train picked up speed.

“You know,” Pegasus said, still holding the wine opener in his hand, raised like a knife, “they’ll call me a hero for this. They’ll probably give me a reward.”

Seto expected the strike to follow, but instead Mokuba leaped forward, throwing his small weight into Pegasus, who shouted and staggered. And then, like a crack of thunder, a shot struck from another car, hitting Pegasus in his chest. Seto sucked in a shocked breath.

“Hey!” Tristan shouted from where he was crouched on top of the train car with his rifle pointed at Pegasus. “Where the hell have you been? We’re about to hit the jump point!”

“Shit.” Joey winced as he rolled his shoulder. “We’re not slowing down.”

The tracks rattled beneath them. Seto saw, from the express car, their compatriots lifting the stolen goods in their bags. They were all, amazingly, still alive.

“There’s still time, Seto,” Pegasus said, palm pressed against the blooming red wine stain on his magenta shirt. It matched the seat cushions of the car so beautifully. “You know what I am capable of. I can’t have a loose Kaiba brother out there, but if you let me--”

“Shut up!” Joey shouted. “We’re going. Both of you, we’re going.”

“To what?” Seto snapped. “Jump from a moving train?”

“You’re the idiot that decided to hold this thing up.” He gripped his arm and winced again as pain shot through him.

Seto looked at him, and then gently he guided Mokuba to his side. “You’ll take my brother.”

Mokuba’s head shot up. “I’m not going anywhere without you.”

“Joey will keep you safe,” Seto said and glanced up at him, “while I finish up here.”

“No,” Joey said. “All of us.”

“I’m not part of your little gang,” he said.

His grip tightened. “Don’t care.”

Seto grit his teeth. He needed him to understand. There was, at this moment, a gun between himself and the man who’d set out to make his already difficult life miserable. It’d be so easy to finish things now. To wipe this golden land of all its horrors, to put his fears to rest, to never worry again about Maximillian Pegasus. But his brother was staring up at him, and Joey wouldn’t let go. Seto had what he’d come for.

“Fine,” he said, and added, “Let’s go.”

“Oh no,” Pegasus said. “You’re not going anywhere.”

His hand twisted in Mokuba’s hair, and Seto shouted, grappling with him to push him away. They stumbled onto the platform between the cars, the ground moving beneath them, the metal clack of the tracks fast as Seto’s heartbeat. They were twisting, and Seto lost his grip, felt nothing but air beneath him, grasped desperately for the railing, saw the faces of the others in a blur as he tipped back. Another gunshot loosened the grip Pegasus had on him, and in the next moment Seto slammed into the ground, shouting as he hit rock and stone. There was more shouting from the others, Mokuba screaming his name, and he heard the rough landing of the others as he lay dazed. The train kept moving past him, not half as fast as it seemed on board. The body of Maximillian Pegasus slumped over the rail.

“Seto!” he heard his brother shout. “Are you okay?”

Hands were on him. His vision filled with Joey’s face, the golden colored hair raining down around a worried face, his hand pressed to Seto’s chest. Mokuba knelt beside him, holding Seto’s cane in his hands. 

Joey, looking relieved that he was alive, said, “You stupid bastard.”

Seto’s response was swallowed when Mokuba threw his arms around him. He squeezed his brother in response.

“What the hell was that?” Tristan was shouting alongside Yugi’s, “Are you okay?” They each handled a bag weighted with god and whatever else they’d managed to pilfer. Joey and Tea helped Seto to his feet.

“I can explain things,” Seto said as he dusted himself off. As the brakes of the train screeched, he added, “Later.”

They didn’t press as they hurried into the trees for cover. Five horses were waiting for them down by the river that crossed through here. They would ride as far as they could away from here, somewhere quiet, Seto hoped, where no one had ever heard the Kaiba name, with his brother safe in tow.

Later, he’d said. They had time now.


	19. Knock (Dragon)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seto Kaiba is on a quest to find a dragon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is an idea I had in my head a long time! I think if I made it it's own thing I'd do a lot of editing on this part, but it's fun and that's what I care about. The game they're playing is called Knock and it's basically fantasy gin rummy.

It’s midnight by the time Seto Kaiba stops at an inn for the evening. Around him the dark trees close in, the rocky terrain so close to the mountains making it harder and harder to find the path. It’s a moonless night, and the shadows are deep, and he would ride on if he weren’t so lost. He brings his white steed to the stable by the inn. His shining black boots dip into the mud as he dismounts, and he lifts the blue cape he wears as he grimaces down. He strides inside, tossing open the door for dramatic effect. It doesn’t do much. There’s only three people inside: a woman at the bar, cleaning it with a dirty rag, and two men in the far corner at a round table. One is slumped forward, head buried in his arms. The other sits with his legs propped up in the air, a grin across his face. None of them look at Seto as he enters despite the dramatics. He frowns at that.

The woman does lift her head when he approaches the bar. She only raises an eyebrow as he places three gold coins in front of her. He says, “I’m looking for a dragon.”

She laughs. It’s not a quiet laugh either. She leans down over the bar, only staying upright by propping herself up on her elbow. Seto is a little taken aback by the response. He is prince of this land. People don’t generally laugh in his face.

“A dragon?” She wipes a tear from her eye. “No one’s seen a dragon in a hundred years!”

His fingers curl around the coins. “There’s rumors. Sightings in these mountains.”

“There’s always rumors,” she says. She sweeps back a blond curl and smiles good naturedly. “They say there are harpies in the mountains too, or the dark magicians of old. They’re just stories.”

Seto’s teeth grit. He knows they’re stories, thank you. Seto read all story books to his little brother when they were younger. He can repeat them by heart. They’re not gone, people whisper, but changed. Some children are born with tails or tongues or devil’s eyes, and they’ll say they met a dragon in disguise. They no longer swoop down to steal maidens or chase kings from their castles. But they are there.

“You tell me,” he says through his teeth, “that you’ve heard nothing at all.”

“Dragons aren’t very good for business,” she says and returns to wiping down the filthy counter. “If you’d like a drink, or a bed, I can do that for you. I don’t bother with much else.”

He leans forward. “I have traveled through the dark forest. I have crossed the wide river, past these rotted trees, and I am here now, in this place, where people whisper of the beast that flies overhead, black as midnight, with eyes like fire pits. I am a  _ prince _ , and you will tell me what I need to know.”

She looks unimpressed by the display. Behind him, a voice says, “What’re you looking for, friend?”

Seto turns. It’s the miscreant lifted from his table. His hair is golden and falls in messy curls around his face. The clothes he wears are simple, and he runs a coin between his fingers before placing it down on the bar. He’s still grinning. It’s wide across his face.

“He’s not a friend,” the woman says and takes the coin, replacing it with a mug of something that smells spiced and warm. “He’s a prince.”

“A prince!” The man looks at him excitedly. “We never get any of those.”

Seto straightens his shoulders. The man’s gaze flicks down to the gold coins on the table. That he can work with.

“He’s looking for a dragon,” the woman says with a smirk. 

The man’s eyes light up. “What do you know about dragons?”

“I’ve read the stories,” Seto said. “I’ve followed the tales.”

“Story books,” he says knowingly and winks at the woman, who laughs again. “Folk tales.”

“And you would be the expert then?” Seto asks.

“Joey knows everything about dragons,” the woman says.

He shakes his head. “I don’t know a damn thing.”

Seto clinks the gold pieces together. Joey’s head perks up.

“I’m very certain,” Seto says. “You’d not know where the lair of the beast was at all.”

The woman snorts and mutters “ _ lair _ ” under her breath. Joey tilts his head in consideration. Seto can see the wheels turning in his peasant head as he takes in Seto’s clean clothes, the ice blue doublet, the silver sword at his side.

“I think I know some things,” he says. “Stories, you know. But nothing that can be bought.”

Seto frowns. “I’ll reward handsomely for any information.”

Joey laughs. “You think with your moneybag,  _ your highness _ .” He drawls out the formality like it’s sour on his tongue. “No one around here’ll tell you a thing about the dragon. They’re scared.”

“Terrified,” the woman says dryly.

Seto cuts her a glare before he glances to the table he’d occupied. Cards are laid out, and there’s a fine stack of coin where Joey has taken his partner to task. A gambler. Seto takes aim at his mark.

“You wager?” he asks, nodding to the table. “What game?”

Joey eyes him, but his grin remains. “Any game. Faro’s a good one, and Mai here’s a treat at three-card monte. You ever play Knock?”

Knock is a game that the castle guards play, quick and as easy to win as to lose. Seto and Mokuba have spent hours playing it together. It’s not a game with a lot of rules, nor much strategy. You build the better hand, and you win. Seto is very good at winning.

Seto clinks the gold pieces together again. “What do you usually wager?”

Joey’s gaze is still focused on Seto. His eyes are steel. “Coin, drink, whatever anyone has.”

“You don’t often play with princes,” he says. “I imagine you’d have to up your game.”

His shoulders rise. His grin is no longer so friendly. “You want me to wager what I might know against your gold.”

“I know it’s not much of a contest.” Seto lifts his chin. Joey’s eyes are glinting like a knife’s edge with each taunt. “It’d save the time if you just told me. Though it’s not a game that requires being clever, so maybe you do have a chance.”

Joey nods towards an empty table. “Let’s see it then.”

The table is easily set. The other member of the small bar is undisturbed as Joey gathers up his card and lays out the deck. He graciously allows Seto to cut the deck, proof that there’s no foul play, not that Seto needs it. Seven cards are laid in front of each player, and one card set in the middle. Since Joey deals, Seto takes it first. The cards are old, worn around the edges, and the face of the queen that lays between them is not the usual regal style. They look more like the magic cards fortune tellers play with. The queen looks up at him, the moon behind her head.

“You can’t be sure,” Joey says as they start, “that I know what you want me to know. I could be lying for your gold.”

Seto organizes his cards. His hand is already strong. Two pairs of kings, and a run of numbers in varying suites. He discards a seven that Joey takes and places a king on the discard.

“If you were going to lie you would’ve taken the money already.” Seto has placed the coins beside the deck. “I don’t think you’re clever enough to lie.”

Joey shakes his head. More cards pass between them. Seto now has three kings, and three cards of the same suite, but it’s Joey who knocks first. His knuckles against the wood table are a startling sound in the quiet space. They lay their hands down, and Joey’s is higher. He slides the three coins over to him and moves one between his fingers.

“It’s a good thing,” he says with an easy smile. “If I was too clever it’d be hard to play this game.”

“We’ll go again,” Seto says and removes three more coins. “I’ll deal.”

Joey watches as he does, still flipping the coin between his fingers. As the cards are laid down in front of him, he asks, “What’re you gonna do if you find a dragon? I don’t think that fancy sword is gonna be much help.”

“I wouldn’t kill it,” Seto says defensively. “What good would a dead dragon do me?”

Joey’s fingers stop moving. “Then what? You take it back in chains? Why?”

“It’s the King’s Quest,” he says. “There are three sons in line for the crown since the king died. We each return with a prize.”

“That’s stupid.” Joey picks up his cards.

“It’s tradition.” Seto frowns as he says it.

Joey takes a king and lays down a two. Seto draws. He knows what waits back for him at that castle. Noah, who lounges around the cold white stones announcing himself the only blood heir of King Gozaburo (may he burn in hell), claiming makes him the only legitimate choice. If Noah wins the game, Seto isn’t sure what will happen to him and his brother. It’s up to Seto, the eldest, to care for Mokuba, who’s quest took him somewhere safe (he hopes), and ensure they can keep their crown and their home and their name. If he brings back a dragon, a real living dragon, there’s no one that can touch him. It’s more than a prize. It’s a tool in his arsenal, a measure of power. No one could touch them.

“The king didn’t believe blood made you anything,” Seto says, and repeating Gozaburo leaves an ugly taste on his tongue, but it’s probably the only area where they agreed. “If he had an heir, he wanted it to be a worthy one.”

Joey’s eyes are innocent when he asks, “Are you?”

Seto quickly snatches up the next card and knocks against the table. His hand is good. A jack, queen, and then king, three threes, and a four-five-six run. He’s startled when Joey lays down four aces and three kings. He takes the gold.

“I got lucky with that hand,” Joey says with a shrug. He gathers up the deck.

Frustration itches at Seto’s collar. He takes the cards handed to him and is determined to win with them. The dragon is a larger goal, but losing this game is an immediate concern.

Joey lines his cards up again. “Who would make a good heir to that tyrant? I think I’d pass on his crown.”

Seto’s teeth grit as he slaps down a card. “You would, would you?”

He takes his card and replaces it with one of his own. “There’s better things to do with my time.”

“Entertaining drunks and stealing their coins,” Seto deadpans. Another spike of irritation hits him as Joey takes his card again. They’re low cards, and he can’t determine his strategy.

“There’s better things to do with a dragon, anyway,” he says flippantly and takes another of Seto’s cards. “They’re impossible to win against anyway. I’d pick a different quest.

Seto is now officially angry. He takes cards as fast as Joey lays them down. Joey’s amber eyes glint in the dim light of the bar, his smile still easy and his fingers still quick.

“Amazing how you talk without saying anything,” Seto snipes and lays down another card. “I’d think a simpleton would at least know not to insult his next king.”

“And I didn’t,” Joey says simply and takes his card away.

Seto is frozen cold. He stares down Joey, his wrists on the table, his eyes wide with anger. He should fly across this table and make him bleed for the information he needs. He should burn this whole inn to the ground for all it has given him. He’d at least like to smash in the uneven teeth that Joey flashes him, and instead he knocks.

The hands are compared. Seto smiles as he sees his royal deck has triumphed. Joey only has number cards to show, not a single face among them.

“There,” Seto breathes out. “You’ve wagered your knowledge. Now you’ll give it to me.”

“Damn,” Joey says and laughs as he collects his deck. “A half a turn more I coulda had you.”

“I’m doubtful.” Seto stands out of his seat. “It won’t save you to waste time either.”

He laughs again. “I should’ve taken you for a sore winner. Alright, alright, you got me. I do know a thing or two about where to find a dragon, but telling you won’t do any good. I’ll have to show you.”

“Joey,” the woman calls from the bar. She gives the pair of them a worried look.

Joey only waves a hand at her and stands. He starts towards the door out into the twisted wood, and Seto’s at his heel. He half suspects there’s a trick to be played here. If the peasant thinks he can run, or lose Seto in the wood, he’ll be disappointed. They step outside into the darkness. There’s only a single lantern on the door, waving loosely in the breeze. It brings the darkness in and out like the wake of the ocean.

“If you think you’re getting out of this--” Seto starts.

Joey only turns on him, bowing low. “Of course not, your highness.”

It’s with the same sarcastic tilt, and when he comes up there’s something different about him. The light wavers uncertainly against his face. In the dark, his eyes glow. He grins, and the teeth are wide and sharp.

“You wanna know where to find a dragon, fine,” he says. “You’ve found one.”

Seto realizes a second too late as he lunges. He pulls his sword free, prepared to fight, but he’s only knocked aside with a blast of wind that rattles the lantern and knocks the candle out entirely. Seto’s on the ground in the dark and looking up at the trees above him with their twisted branches and the empty moonless sky and he sees a black shape like the shadow of a bat but longer wider and hears a cackling sound. Seto’s scrambling to his feet, but he only feels the wind of the beast’s wings and hears the echoing sound of his laughter.

Seto doesn’t think on it. He takes his steed by the bridle and lifts himself on. The dark shadow moves across the sky towards the mountains. His horse is galloping after, weaving through the dark wood. Seto grins as he drives his horse forward. There’s a game on now, and he’s going to win.


	20. Winning (Sports)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joey Wheeler has a rough night at his soccer match, and he finds an unexpected person to talk to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A long time ago someone made a post about mascot Kaiba and I've never stopped thinking about it. I felt inspired after [making a college AU in the Sims 4](https://twitter.com/thanksmokuba/status/1197983968521588737?s=20), in which soccer and spirit teams plays a big pat.

The soccer field was brightly lit in the cool evening. The stadium lights made sharp shadows against the faces of the college crowd, hands raised up, constant cheering. Joey was grateful for the cool weather as he lifted up his soccer jersey, trying to let any amount of air in. The match had been tough, the rival school offering a good defense he was having trouble getting around. They were one point from victory, and the heat was on. Joey didn’t like to lose.

The ball was being juggled now by the Rintama forwards. Joey jogged along with the other Domino Dragons, keeping to the edge of the field. The crowd was slamming their feet with the tense game, and it lifted his head a little higher. It felt good when the whole school was into it. From the corner of his eye he saw their mascot waving his arms. It always gave him a good laugh seeing the goofy looking dragon dancing around the field, and he usually spent the time between the half watching his antics. Domino’s cheer squad showed up at every event, from the debate team to the golf league. They knew how to amp up the energy.

Joey’s distraction was over as he saw the ball being passed between two kickers. It was coming his way. He swooped in. The kicker kept the ball between his feet as Joey raced up beside him, and he could quite slide in. They were fighting with each other, trying to guide the other out of play. The bright blue uniform was the only thing Joey focused on, so far from his other Domino reds, and it was hard to remember where the edge of the pitch was. He knew he was coming up on the out of bounds line, but if he could just move in he could--

Go flying. He thought the player had pushed him but in honesty he was on the outside of the line, the momentum too much to stop going. He collided heavily with something surprisingly soft, and he was somersaulting onto the ground, trapped in an embrace with some kind of plush creature. His eyes blurred black and then green and then a hundred faces standing up to see what the damage was. He landed on his back with a groan. A whistle was being blown. People were moving towards him.

Them. Joey realized as he tried to sit up and was gently pushed back down that what he’d collided with was in fact the Domino Dragon mascot. He couldn’t see a face beneath the cartoon head of the costume, but he could hear the angry sounds coming from inside. His eyes moved to the pitch, where the action had slowed. The scoreboard had changed. Rintama up by one. Shit.

“I’m okay,” he said, shoving the hands off him. He glanced over at the mascot, who was helpfully lifted onto his feet. The dragon turned with a wave to the crowd, and there were cheers from a few people. Players patted Joey on the back, and he retook his position on the pitch.

Domino never took the advantage. Joey sighed as he sat back in the locker room forty minutes later, long after his teammates went for the post-game drink at the nearest bar. It felt stupid, feeling this stupid over losing, but his scholarship relied on his soccer skills and he struggled enough keeping his grades up. Every slip up felt like the opening of a pit beneath his feet. He ran a hand through his sweaty hair and breathed in. It was cool. A close game wasn’t a failure, and they weren’t done with the season yet. He needed to relax.

His own melancholy thoughts were interrupted by an angry grumble from the other side of the locker room. He lifted his head up and glanced around. Joey thought he was alone, but as he rounded a row of lockers, he saw sitting on a bench without any body attached the head of the Domino Dragon. It stared up at him with a goofy expression its face. Joey stared down at it before realizing there was a person watching him. Tall and thin and wearing a simple black shirt and jeans, the person beneath the dragon was scowling at him, holding a hand on his shoulder as he rolled it experimentally.

“You should watch where you’re going,” he said, his voice dour and sarcastic.

Joey blinked, and he sheepishly leaned back as he ran another hand through his hair. “Sorry about all that. I usually only hit players.”

The boy stared at him, eyes narrowed. One hand rested on the head of the dragon, and it was hard to connect the cartoon face to the glare coming from the person who wore it.

“What’re you doing here?” Joey asked, because he wasn’t sure what else to say.

“Changing,” he said simply. “Strangely mascot outfit isn’t every day wear.”

“I think you could pull it off,” Joey said.

He stared at him some more. Joey laughed nervously at his own bad joke. There was silence between the two of them that stretched so taut it threatened to snap. 

“Hey what’s your name?” Joey asked.

“Why?” the boy drawled.

“So I can put it on your get well card.” He stepped closer to him. “I’m Joey--”

“Wheeler,” he finished. “I saw your uniform. It’s Seto Kaiba.”

He grinned. “You were looking at me?”

Seto lifted his chin up, but the tips of his ears spotted with a pink blush. “When you collided with me, yes.”

“Cool, cool.” Joey leaned his head against the locker. How this kid got put on the pep squad when he looked like he looked so sour was beyond him. The image of the Domino Dragon bouncing around and shaking his tail was all the funnier knowing who was under it. He couldn’t help the giggle that escaped his lips, and Seto’s frown deepened.

“This has been enlightening,” he said quickly and reached down to grab the head. “Good luck with your next collision.”

Joey lifted his head up and found himself walking after him. They were leaving the locker room into the outside, where a sports shed kept most of the day to day equipment.

“Hold on,” Joey said. “Lemme make it up to you. I can buy you a drink.”

“No thanks,” Seto said as he unlocked the shed. “I don’t need to get drunk with overgrown kindergartners.”

“A coffee then.” He watched him place the mascot head inside. “Seriously, what’re you doing after this?”

He let out a breath and closed the doors, padlocking it again. “Why do you want to know?”

Joey rocked back on his heels, jamming his hands in his pocket. There were a million reasons he had not to go to the bar with his teammates, or back alone to his apartment, or just wander through the usual college nightlife on the popular street corners. They stacked up one by one in his brain, and he shook his head.

“You’re a funny guy,” he said. “Plus, the mascot’s the best part of the whole spirit team. You should show me some of your moves.”

Seto turned around, glaring down at him. The gears were turning in his head, trying to figure out if he was making fun. Joey only beamed a perfectly innocent smile his way.

“I could do with a coffee,” Seto said and walked past him towards the parking lot. “And I’m only letting you pay because my shoulder still hurts. And I’m driving.”

Joey grinned and followed after him. “Okay. But you gotta tell me how they let you into that mascot outfit. I don’t exactly see you shaking it anywhere else.”

Seto sighed. “You’re already making me regret this.”

Joey only laughed, especially when he saw the smile pulling Seto’s lips. His spirits were already lifting. This felt a lot like winning.


	21. Looking for Trouble (Heist)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joey Wheeler is hired by Seto Kaiba to steal something that was stolen from him.

Joey moved through the fancy party at a leisurely pace, taking in the sights around him. He rarely got an invite to one of these fancy shindigs, rarely got to break out his nice blazer. Everyone around him held a flute of champagne, but he forewent that for the waiter with the tiny crackers dolloped with lobster and avocado. He stuffed three in his mouth with quick succession and kept moving. The party was supposed to be small, he was told, really an investors meeting with a dress code, but it took up the main ballroom of the hotel and was packed with the who’s who of Silicone Valley. First the mingling, then the big announcement from Industrial Illusions. Joey made a show of checking the watch on his arm and bumped shoulder first into a man.

“Watch where you’re going,” the man snarled in a heavy German accent.

“Sorry,” Joey said and patted his shoulder. “Filled up on champagne.”

The man muttered under his breath in his mother tongue. Joey waved an apologetic hand and continued on, past the bar, to the side door, where he slipped into the hall. It was quieter out here. No people, the soft violins of the hall disappearing as the door closed. There were restrooms on this side, and past that were the elevators. A tall man stood in front of them, dressed in a sharp black suit. Seto Kaiba tapped his foot as Joey approached him.

“You going my way?” Joey grinned up at him.

“You’re already behind.” Kaiba hit the button, and the door dinged open.

“Sorry.” Joey shrugged as he followed him in. “I don’t get invited to these kinda parties. Maybe I wanted to feel fancy for a minute. Besides, I think I made pretty good time.”

He lifted up the watch again and wasn’t surprised a moment later when Seto grabbed his wrist, pulling his arm up.

“This is my watch,” he said.

Joey turned his wrist, admiring the silver in the cool light of the elevator. “I know. Classy style, Kaiba.”

“You’re forgetting why I brought you here,” he said as he unclasped it. “You’re not supposed to steal from me.”

“Relax,” he said. “I wanted to see how long it took you to notice.”

“And your hands are disgusting.” He dropped Joey’s arm and slid it back on his wrist. “I don’t want your greasy fingers all over Zigfried’s room.”

“I already got them all over Zigfried.” He pulled the hotel key out of his sleeve and tucked it into his pocket. “You sure his room is empty?”

Kaiba’s eyes went to the floor counter, which dinged as they reached their destination. “We’ll find out in a moment.”

They walked down the hotel hallway in silence, Kaiba counting door numbers until they found the one they were looking for. They were on one of the high floors, where the room numbers were further and further apart. Joey couldn’t afford the cheapest night in this hotel. He tried not to wonder how much people like Zigfried and Kaiba were paying.

They came to the door, and Joey removed the hotel key with the a flourish before sliding it against the card reader. It lit up green, and he pushed open the door for Kaiba, who rolled his eyes as he followed him in. The suite was painted a gentle pink with wide white curtains that covered the large windows that looked over the San Francisco cityscape. The bed was massive and the bedspread frilled, the cream colored curtain behind it like setting a stage. A wall cut between the space that was meant to be bedroom and sitting area. Two large couches huddled around a coffee table, and a desk was set up with a single sleek white laptop. Joey whistled as the door closed behind them.

“You know,” he said as he strutted through the set up, “I didn’t think you’d need me for this. Figured you’d have some kind of special tech to hack a simple hotel lock.”

“Your hands are a much more effective tool,” Kaiba said.

Joey grinned. “You think so?”

He looked to see if Kaiba caught the innuendo in his voice, but he was marching across the room to the bed area. He’d slipped what looked to be black driving gloves. Joey shook his head. A year ago, Yugi had put their little gang in contact with the Kaibas for a complex job with a big payout. Joey’d been sure it’d be the last they heard of Seto Kaiba, who couldn’t stand the association with common criminals and petty thieves. And then, a month ago, he’d contacted Yugi again, and this time the job was much smaller. Yugi looked at this stuff like a puzzle, and he’d been pretty bored with the idea as soon as Kaiba had proposed it, but Joey’s quick hands and ability to move through a room was a boon to the situation. Plus, his sister lived in San Francisco, and he was happy to let Kaiba buy him a plane ticket.

So two days ago they’d landed in sunny California, taken a hotel room a floor down from where Zigfried was staying, and tonight they were stealing something that was already stolen. At least, Kaiba said it belonged to him. Joey gave it a fifty-fifty shot he was lying.

“The fewer security breaches, the better,” Kaiba continued as he opened the laptop. “I don’t want him clued in until he has to be. We’re lucky he no longer has his family’s money to fall back on. I’m tired of dealing with men with guns.”

Joey examined the crystal cufflinks by the bed. “Yeah, he’s really hurting.”

“Isn’t there something you’re supposed to be looking for?” Kaiba said.

Joey watched him slip a drive into the side port of the laptop. “Yeah, yeah. I’m on it.”

Kaiba had shown him a picture of the thing, some kind of prototype technology that Kaiba Corp was trying to market in the States. The hotel room was a mess with Zigfried’s things, probably him picking his best outfit to impress the Industrial Illusions CEO with. A closet was left open, several hangers scattered to the floor as jackets had been pulled down. Joey picked up one with a nice frill on the collar and a rose brooch on the lapel. He examined the rose and figured it was probably real diamond. He unlatched the pin holding it with barely a brush of his thumb. He discarded the coat and ran his hands along the top of the closet. Kaiba remained hunched over the computer, tapping away.

“How do you know he didn’t have the hotel keep it for him?” Joey asked. “This thing seems pretty important.”

“Because Zigfried wouldn’t want it out of his sight, especially after he heard Pegasus invited me as well. I saw him carrying it up to his room.”

The floor was also empty. The hotel safe hadn’t been set and wasn’t large enough to hold it anyway. Joey moved back around the bed. Kaiba took a step back from the computer as a command screen started its work. He turned to Joey and held out a hand. Sheepishly, he placed the brooch in it.

“I wasn’t going to take it,” Joey said.

“I’m absolutely sure.” Kaiba set it on the table. “Minimal amount of touching, please. Zigfried doesn’t need to return to a ransacked room.”

Joey kicked over a discarded towel. “You shoulda just had him invite you in if you were so worried.”

“Oh, yes,” he mocked. “I’ll ask politely if Zigfried could just open his doors and let me rummage around while he watches.”

Joey huffed out a laugh. “You didn’t see him making eyes at you?”

“Glaring at me.”

“And then he talked to you for like twenty minutes.”

“Taunting me,” Kaiba said with a groan.

“Yeah, okay.” Joey pulled open the drawers of the dresser, empty. “No one’s ever pulled your pigtails, I get it.”

Kaiba joined him in the search, checking the drawers of the desk. “I can’t stand what you’re implying. Zigfried hates me, always has. He’s hacked my computers for fun before, he always shows me up at these events, and now he steals my data, my prototype--”

“Your watch,” Joey said and kicked the final drawer closed.

Kaiba stopped and looked at him. Joey shrugged.

“I’m just saying.” He ran his hand over the bedside table. “You tend to miss the obvious.”

The room was quiet for a minute. Joey went back to checking drawers and coming up empty. Kaiba watched.

“How long have you…?” Kaiba asked, sort of. Joey swore the tips of his ears were turning red.

“We got on a plane, what, fifty-seven hours ago?” He grinned at him. “I wanted to see how long it’d take you to notice.”

The room was coming up empty. Joey set his sights on a different goal. He smiled pretty, and in one stride he was in front of Kaiba. The bar on his program was barely inching towards halfway.

“I don’t think this is the most opportune time,” Kaiba said, haltingly.

“Your thingie’s still going.” Joey tilted his head up at him. “How long d’ya think what’s-his-face is gonna talk for?”

“He can be so long-winded, honestly, I don’t--”

Joey let out a breath and lifted his face up to kiss him. He half expected Kaiba to tell him to stop, bark at him to focus on the job at hand, but in the next breath Kaiba’s hands were in his hair, pulling him closer. Joey laughed against his lips, cut short by Kaiba’s eager mouth. A soft sound emerged from his throat, and Joey slid his hands into his suit jacket, pulling at the fabric. He dragged him down to the bed, mussing the soft sheets, mussing his dark hair. Joey kissed to wreck and ruin, and Kaiba grabbed onto him like he was scared he’d ever stop.

“This seems,” Kaiba said, breathless as Joey’s teeth grazed the skin of his neck, “an unfortunate position to get caught in.”

“Only if we’re caught.” Joey’s hand slid down his thigh, and he was rewarded with a heady sound from Kaiba. “And after stealing back your thing and getting one over this guy, won’t it be a cherry on top fooling around in his bed?”

“You can be persuasive,” Kaiba gasped out before Joey kissed him again.

So a little more than fooling around. This was threatening out of PG-13 area pretty quick, but Joey had spent two days trapped in a hotel room with him with nothing to do but think up ways to get into trouble. Joey was really, really good at getting into trouble, and judging by the sounds Kaiba was making, he was starting to enjoy it too. They slid further up the bed, and Kaiba lifted up with Joey as they repositioned, and when he dropped back down to allow Joey to work the buttons on his shirt, he winced and made a disgruntled sound. He rolled over, picking up the pillow, and he let out a breath.

“There’s a briefcase,” he said and pulled it out for them both to see.

Joey was feeling their charge fizzle. He unfixed himself from Kaiba’s long legs. “That’s suspicious.”

The thing was cold and metal and heavy. Kaiba sat up as he fiddled with it. Joey lounged back. It should probably disturb how quickly Kaiba went into business mode, but he suspected he never really left.

“He definitely knew I would try something.” He showed the lock to Joey. “Not an electronic lock, not even a number lock. We need a key.”

Joey snorted. “Really?”

“I assume that means you can open it.”

“Easy.”

“Then do it,” he said and stood, returning to the computer.

“You could say please.” Joey sat cross legged, bringing the briefcase in closer. He examined it as Kaiba looked over what he was copying. “You were almost fun a minute ago.”

“A momentary lapse in judgement.”

Joey rolled his eyes and removed his tools from his back pocket. Kaiba tapped his nails against the desk.

“And not that it matters,” he said turning around, “but were you ever going to say anything?”

“I did, didn’t I?” Joey leaned in close. “Now shut up, this is hard.”

“I thought this was where your delinquent skills came in handy.”

“If you want those skills I’d just break it with my shoe.” He stuck his tongue out as he concentrated. “But I figured you wanted things a little neater.”

Kaiba stood back, arms crossed. After a few seconds of silence, he said, “But you hadn’t planned this.”

“Kaiba,” he said and grinned as the pin clicked into place. “You invited me as your date to some fancy party to be wined and dined, and then you snuck me out early to go up to a hotel room. You were putting the moves on me.”

“I wasn’t--” Definitely the ears flushed first before it burned down to his cheekbones. “You know that’s not what I was doing.”

“Coulda fooled me.” The second pin went up, and the third. He was getting good at this. “I think I…”

The last two pins locked into place, and the case lifted open. Joey opened it triumphantly and found inside a round disc, about the size of a plate. It was clunky and large and looked like something out of  _ Star Wars _ .

“Is this it?” he asked.

Kaiba stood straight up. “That’s it.”

“Cool.” He pulled it free and returned the briefcase to its spot before jumping off the bed. “We can go now, right?”

Kaiba removed the stick from the laptop and closed that as well. “We’re done. I should head back downstairs.”

“Or.” Joey slid a hand over his shoulder. “You can tell them you left with a sexy blond. It’s not like it ain’t the truth.”

“It’s not much of an alibi,” he said.

Joey lifted his head to him. “But a much better way to spend an evening.”

Kaiba took the device from him, tucking it under his jacket, and he nodded towards the door. Joey followed after, ready to make trouble.


	22. Mind Meld (Star Trek)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a mission gone wrong, Science Officer Kaiba and First Officer Wheeler share a strange bond.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've pretty much only watched TOS and I don't know the deep lore, so I'm forgiving myself of any inconsistencies. Sometimes you just want to write a significant hand touch.
> 
> I'm not sure if I'll be able to update this again until December 1st, but I'm pretty determined to finish the last of these. If nothing else, I'll be typing them up on my phone.
> 
> Warnings for alien blood.

There was commotion in the teleporter room. The landing party had beamed down to the Federation outpost on Calta-9 six hours ago and dealt with an immediate attack by a local alien population that had knocked out their communications array. Peace had been negotiated by the  _ Guardian _ ’s diplomatic Captain Muto, not before a vital injury of one of their own while stranded in the no man’s land between the two civilizations. As soon as they could track them, First Officer Wheeler and Science Officer Kaiba were brought aboard, and the blood stained and barely conscious Kaiba was only kept upright by Joey. As soon as the teleporter finished energizing, he slumped forward, still spilling green blood everywhere. Their Chief Medical Officer at least had a gurney waiting for him, and Kaiba was quickly wheeled away. Medical personnel rushed after him, and the ensigns were at work keeping communications open with their captain down below. Joey in the midst of it stood perfectly still.

Tea as ship’s doctor should’ve been rushing off with them, but she stopped and snapped her fingers in front of Joey’s face. He blinked at her.

“Are you injured?” she asked. She was using her doctor voice. It made him stand at attention. “Any wounds sustained?”

“You’ve got bigger problems, doc,” he said.

Her eyes narrowed. “I’m about to be elbow deep in Vulcan blood so tell me now if you need a bandaid.”

“Go,” he said and offered up a smile to prove he was okay.

She nodded, and her voice was a little softer when she said, “Go lay down, Joey. We’re handling things from here.”

She ran off to do her duty. Joey trailed after. He knew she’d demand a full checkup once her hands weren’t full, but he needed to be somewhere quiet. His head was buzzing. In the halls of the starship, a few ensigns side eyed his blood covered uniform. He grimaced down at it and resolved to go change. The captain would be shipside soon. They needed to talk.

\---

The checkup came later. Kaiba was cocooned in the medical bay as he healed, no longer critical but still not awake. Tea scanned Joey as Yugi paced in front of them. Captain Muto was well known for his infinite patience and diplomatic ability, which was why he was chosen for their five year mission into the final frontier. Joey had seen him make a Klingon smile and a Vulcan laugh. Currently he was utterly pissed.

“They wanted Federation guns to blow them out of the water,” he said and threw his hands up. “They tried to involve us in their war and it nearly cost the life of one of our best officers.”

“Not the first time,” Joey said, waving a hand to get Tea’s scanner out of his face. “Won’t be the last. It’s our job, cap.”

“We’re research and diplomacy first.” Yugi sighed and looked over where their Science Officer lay. “He’ll wake up soon, won’t he?”

Tea nodded, fitting her equipment back in her bag. “He’s recuperating. Vulcans are stronger than humans.”

“He’s only half-Vulcan,” Joey muttered and rubbed his face.

“‘Only’,” she repeated with a scoff. “You’ve gotta stop egging him on, Joey. One day you’ll get first hand experience.”

He rolled his eyes and turned back to his captain. “I’ve already submitted my report, but, uh, there’s something I wasn’t sure if I needed to add. I was gonna wait for Kaiba to use his big words.”

Yugi looked at him, lips an unhappy line. “What happened?”

“I don’t actually know.” Joey shifted uncomfortably. “After he was injured, I got us to some cover, and he--I dunno. Touched me. Right here.” He tapped his own temple. “And I got, not like memories, but impressions maybe.”

Tea stood straight. Yugi folded his arms behind his back. Kaiba kept sleeping.

“Vulcans have telepathic abilities,” Tea said. “They don’t generally use them on humans.”

“Maybe he was trying to communicate something,” Yugi said. He considered Joey. “We won’t know until he wakes up. For now, I’ll keep it out of my report.”

Joey felt relieved, even if he didn’t know why. He glanced back at Kaiba, who slept serenely on.

\---

Medical bay called Yugi out of the bridge nine hours later. He lifted a hand to Joey and headed down alone. Joey pretended that wasn’t concerning.

Joey had dreamed of Vulcan last night, a place he’d never been. The air was too hard for humans to breathe and the sun baked the landscape into red clay. The memory had been a fond one and utterly confusing to Joey, who had to remind himself he was born in Brooklyn and hadn’t even seen a desert until he traveled to California to join the Academy.

Shift changes at meal times meant he was in the mess hall when Kaiba appeared in full Science Officer uniform looking slightly paler than usual and with his usual grimace on. He went straight to the food replicators. Joey didn’t know how he expected to feel when he saw him, but a pit opened up in his stomach, and it churned with relief, excitement, and a rising apprehension. He watched as Kaiba removed what looked similar to a shake and stalked away, never once looking at him.

Joey found Yugi in his quarters an hour later, readying to head to the bridge. The captain looked at him as he entered, an uneasy look on his face.

“Kaiba says he’s fine,” he said.

Joey took the seat across from his desk. “He was lacerated. There was more blood on me than in him.”

“He’s not allowed to return to duty until Tea assures me he’s up to task.” Yugi shook his head. “That’s not what you’re really asking.”

Joey waited. Yugi sighed.

“It’s called a Vulcan mind meld,” he said. “Kaiba said he felt unable to communicate to you physically, so he attempted to do so telepathically. He’s under the impression it didn’t actually work. I asked him what he was trying to communicate, and then he clammed up.”

“That sounds like him.”

“If he did manage to implant something,” Yugi said, “you’d know. You’d share that knowledge.”

“But I don’t,” Joey said. “So it didn’t work, like he said.”

Captain Muto nodded, but it was uncertain. “I think you need to talk to Kaiba about it. Just to be sure.”

“Sure,” Joey said with every intention to drop the subject immediately. It didn’t work, so there was absolutely nothing to worry about.

\---

It was amazing how, despite both being on deck officers and collectively the right and left hand of their captain, First Officer Wheeler and Science Officer Kaiba managed to avoid each other. It was a momentary reprieve for the crew. No more arguments on the bridge or snide remarks across the mess hall. The ensigns had a growing pool for who would strike first when it finally came to fisticuffs. Most bets were on Joey, he knew. But the newfound quiet seemed to unsettle people even more. Joey felt his captain’s eyes on him most days he was on the bridge, and it was almost a relief when the next emergency arose.

A radiated space cloud absorbed the ship, knocking out engines. Chief Engineer Taylor was hard at work keeping their support systems on, and Science Officer Kaiba remained on deck to try to determine how best to neutralize the cloud, or at least stop it from eating through the hull of the ship. An unexpected breach put Captain Muto out of commission. Joey took the captain’s chair.

At the unlucky thirteenth hour, an argument did break out. Kaiba suggested lowering their shields to release a pulse from their phaser cannons that could potentially dissipate the cloud long enough for them to get out of its range. The downside to this plan was that it could also potentially let in the radiation if the hull didn’t hold, the side effects of which included death.

“It’ll kill us,” Joey said.

“It’s a 68% chance of success,” Kaiba said calmly.

He gave a frustrated huff. “That isn’t high!”

“The alternative is to continue to wait until the shields fail on their own, and by then it’ll be a 5% chance of recovery. The outside hull won’t last at that point. Then we die anyway.”

“Cheery,” he muttered. He’d take those odds for himself anytime, but as of right now he was acting captain, with a ship full of people whose lives he was currently in charge of. “We don’t have working engines. We already have a hull breach. Lowering shields for half a chance is too dangerous.”

“Rather than sitting here, waiting to die?” Kaiba stood in front of him, talking down to him. It made Joey’s fists curl. “You’re too scared to make the right choice.”

He grit his teeth and stood straight up. “And you’re too reckless, Seto!”

Kaiba always kept himself perfectly composed, and Joey’d rarely seen a flinch across his face, but something did, rippling like a water droplet in a still lake, shock and surprise and anger, at least that one was familiar. Joey snapped his mouth shut. He was absolutely certain that before Calta-9 he hadn’t even known Kaiba had a first name, much less a human one. His head buzzed. Everyone on deck was looking at them.

“Get Tristan to tell me we can make it,” Joey said. “And we’ll do it.”

He sunk back into the chair. Kaiba turned to get on the horn with engineering.

It worked, of course it did, because Kaiba was right about everything. Ten hours later they’d managed to dock themselves at a station. Engineering was going over damage. Yugi was communicating with the closest Federation ship for support out of his medical bay. Joey had excused himself to his quarters, but he hadn’t slept. The dreams hadn’t actually stopped, just faded. He worried if he went to sleep now, they’d come back just as strong.

There was a knock at his door. A stolid act of politeness, especially from the person on the other side. Joey wasn’t even surprised that Kaiba had come. The door slid shut behind him, and the two didn’t quite look at each other.

“We should discuss,” Kaiba said slowly, and seemed to struggle with the end of his sentence before settling on, “things.”

Joey didn’t feel like beating around the bush. “Why’d you do it?”

Kaiba frowned. “If it worked, you’d already know.”

“That’s the thing.” Joey held his forehead in his hand. “It did work. I know things. I know you were born on Earth before getting taken to ShiKhar, I know what the Vulcan’s Forge looks like at twilight, and I know about your parents’ death, and your brother--”

He stopped himself. Kaiba still wasn’t looking at him.

“Oh,” Joey said.

“It was selfish,” Kaiba said, “but in the moment, I didn’t know what would happen to me. I only tried to leave the imprint, but once a door is opened, it’s hard to close. Mokuba and I are already orphans. I couldn’t leave him with nothing. I needed to know that someone would care about him if I was gone.”

There was silence between them that stretched out for an eternity. Finally, Joey stood, removing something from his desk drawer. He held the photo out to Kaiba, who took it, eyebrows raised in a question. The picture was faded, but the smiles on the faces of the two kids were still bright.

“That’s my sister,” he said, pointing to the girl in the photo. “Her name’s Serenity. I’d do pretty much anything for her.”

Kaiba didn’t say anything. He rubbed his thumb along the edge of the photo before handing it back. Joey nodded.

“It’s only fair anyway,” he said. “Since I know what you looked like as a kid.”

Against all odds, a smile pulled at Kaiba’s lips.

\---

The truce that followed was not the tense aftermath of a mission gone wrong. The main deck remained at peace, and the arguments moved to a minimum. At lunch they settled close to each other. In their off hours, Kaiba sat in the recreation room with the rest of the crew, something he’d previously avoided. He and Joey played three dimensional chess, or he would sit and listen to their stories as the crew talked. After a particularly fruitful day at a spaceport, Joey found a Vulcan flute and demanded that Kaiba play it as soon as they got back to the ship, and surprising everyone he did. The captain didn’t push the matter, and Joey was grateful for that.

They were waylaid by a Klingon ship over a disputed moon. Yugi initiated talks, but the leader of the moon colony pulled a phaser on the Klingon captain. Joey took the shot for him and was wheeled into the medical bay. It managed to avoid being fatal. As Yugi talked down the rising tension, Tea patched up Joey.

“A thrilling display of heroism,” Kaiba drawled as he entered the medical bay. “And you managed not to die.”

“It’s always been my strongest trait,” Joey said. He laid back in the bed, feeling more sore than hurt. His shirt was off from Tea fixing up the burn.

Tea stood now, giving Kaiba a look as she did. “I’m gonna let the captain know you’re alive.”

She left the room, despite a perfectly good comm board in the medical bay. Joey inspected his wound as Kaiba moved to his bedside.

“You are okay?” he said.

“Aw.” Joey smiled up at him. “You worried about me.”

“It’d be a shame,” he said, “for Starfleet to lose one of its best officers.”

Quiet settled between them. Kaiba sat beside him, and after a moment he extended his hand, two fingers stretched out. Joey looked down at the gesture. To a human, it was the simplest of things, less even than holding hands, but the bits of Kaiba’s memory still rattling around in his head told him exactly how meaningful it was to a Vulcan. Gently, he reached his hand out as well, touching two fingers to his. Both of them looked down at the shared gesture.

“There’s a matter I’ve been meaning to discuss with you,” Kaiba said, like this was business as usual. “After recent events it seemed an opportune time.”

“A love confession after a near death hit?” Joey smiled. “Seems a little cliche.”

He sucked in a breath. “You can be very annoying.”

“So can you,” Joey said. “What do you think Yugi’s gonna say?”

“He’s always so pleased,” Kaiba said tiredly.

Joey grinned and curled his finger a little tighter. “What’re the chances we can move up to hand holding?”

“You’ll have to give me time for that,” Kaiba said, but he smiled all the same.


	23. Heart of the Underdog (Musician)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Concert violinist Seto Kaiba lives next door to a hair metal band.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so desperate to knock these out this week. I wrote this pretty late and I'm posting it at 3AM but my goal is to have all of these chapters finished by Saturday. I'm really happy with the progress I made in November and I'm excited to wrap these up.
> 
> Lots of swears this chapter, weed mentions, and smoking. Based somewhat on my college experience.

It’s quiet in Seto’s room in the house he rents a few blocks from campus. The curtain is drawn over the window, leaving little light in the small space. He keeps this place exactly to his standards: the clean desk with all his books and papers tucked away, his coats hung up in the closet in nice neat rows, the bookshelf organized by need with his textbooks lined up by day of the week on top. Seto is curled in his sheets, enjoying a night of sleep for once in his life.

This is cut short by the high sharp note of an electric guitar being played badly. It slices through the midnight quiet like a cat’s dying squeal and starts Seto from his dream. What immediately follows is a heavy drumming that rattles the window and a voice that screams the lyrics of a song Seto doesn’t know nor cares to learn. He reaches for his phone and looks at the time. 12:30. He’s been asleep for an hour.

Seto has prized convenience over style in attending his university. The house is small and on a street only two blocks away from the main campus. His violin case isn’t the worst to carry around, but he appreciates the brisk walk. The issue, he’s noticed, has been his neighbors. Rowdy college students of all majors also rent the nearby homes. He notices the overgrown lawns around him, riddled with beer cans or garbage, doors painted with psychedelic symbols, and parties that go on til the early hours of morning. Seto has learned to live with most of this. He can ignore a lot of it, at least, but the house that’s next door to his has recently decided to host a hair metal band that did its best to keep him awake at all hours, mostly by playing very badly.

Tonight, Seto decides that’s enough.

He’s still in his pajama pants as he puts on a pair of slippers. He shuffles out the front door. The street is lit by lamps down the road. It’s quiet, but not empty. Next door, the house is a little larger, clearly meant to house more people, and the garage is open, pouring out yellow light against the stained concrete drive. Four people are at instruments: a girl with short cropped hair at the drums, a tall boy with spiked up hair on bass, a shorter boy with hair dyed every color on guitar, and the blond kid with entirely too much hair at the mic. Their friends are watching on lawn chairs and laughing. The air smells of sweat, beer, and marijuana.

Seto stares for a minute. Their lead singer is belting out the opening note of “Immigrant Song”, the guitarist and bassist slightly out of sync as they laugh at each other. The drummer raps her sticks against the toms at a faster pace. Two people take up lawn chairs to watch, a white haired boy who’s half-asleep, lounged all the way down, and someone he vaguely remembers from a business class, dark curls spilling out over a headband, and they’re laughing at the display, clearly stoned out of their mind. Seto serenely walks past, unnoticed, and sees where most of the things in the garage are plugged into a single outlet. He leans down, and he unplugs it.

The immediate drop off in sound is almost euphoric. The electric guitar strums emptily, and the box fan keeping the space cool slowly putters off. String lights sink the garage into a single dim light keeping them afloat from the outside darkness. The singer grabs the mic as he looks up in surprise.

He says, “What the fuck.”

All eyes are on Seto. He swings the extension cord lazily.

“It is,” he says, “12:38 in the  _ fucking _ morning, and I am woken by your banshee’s wail. No more.”

The one with dark curls coughs roughly and says, “Party foul.”

“Sorry,” the one with rainbow hair is saying. “Sorry, Joey, I said, sorry.”

The bassist and the drummer exchange a look. Seto acknowledges that there was a more neighborly way to go about this, but he’s tired, and he might be more forgiving if they weren’t just plain bad.

“Look, dude,” the lead singer--Joey--says, “you can’t just walk in here and unplug our shit.”

“Amazing how I have,” he says.

“Fuck you,” the singer says and shoves the mic out of the way as he marches forward.

“Joey,” their guitarist says and holds him by the arm. “Chill out.”

“He can’t just come in here,” Joey continues and shrugs his friend off.

“Or you’ll what?” Seto nods to the cashed out pipe and Altoid tin of weed scattered on a metal table. “Call the police? You’re lucky I’ve decided to ask politely instead of lodging a noise complaint. I expect you’ll enjoy the rest of your evening  _ quietly _ .”

He storms out without waiting for a reply. He thinks maybe the singer takes a swipe at him, but the friends are gathering around him. Seto walks back to his house, shuts the door behind him, and lays back in bed. He folds the covers back over his shoulders and closes his eyes. Sweet silence fills the room. He sighs in relief.

A guitar cord vibrates through the air, high and long. Seto’s eyes open wide. This means war.

\---

It’s 6AM. Seto sits out on his porch with his cup of coffee. Students are shuffling the streets to campus. He lifts his violin, making sure it’s parallel to the floor, and rests his chin in the rest. He slides his left foot forward. With a practiced hand, he draws the bow across the strings.

The sound is light and clear. He plays Accolay. The stirring upstring in minor is an unusual welcome to the early morning light. It’s a piece Seto hates. He plays it with vigor.

It’s four minutes into the concerto that his bait is taken. It’s the singer, he notes. A mess of blond hair sends sunshine scattering as he marches across their driveways. He’s wearing a pair of pink and blue polka dot sweatpants and a t-shirt with a cartoon goat jumping over a fence.

“It’s six in the fucking morning!” the singer shouts.

Seto keeps playing, paying him no mind. The singer marchers up his porch. He stands over Seto, hands on his hips, and he blows a strand of blond hair out of his face.

“Some of us work nights,” he says.

“Some of us have morning classes.” Seto continues to play. “And yet I’m woken five nights a week by your caterwauling.”

“Do you just look up words to sound smart?” He huffs. “What’s your name anyway?”

“Why?” Seto drawls.

“I’m less likely to pop you if I know who I’m talking to.”

His strings slow. He says, “Seto Kaiba.”

“Joey Wheeler,” he says and forces a smile. “See, now we’re friends.”

Seto’s eyes narrow at him. He plays on. Joey squeezes his hands, and briefly Seto wonders if he really will punch him.

“I’ve heard the name before,” Joey says, still trying to reconcile.

“Maybe you’ve been to an orchestra concert here,” Seto says and then makes an exasperated face. “Probably not. You’d see me as first violin if you had.”

The brag is lost on the idiot. Seto worked hard for concertmaster, and likes to remind those around him, when he has those around him.

Joey’s only getting annoyed. “Can you stop playing for two seconds?”

Seto does, only because he tires of the piece. It did its job anyway. He sets the violin back in its case.

“What if we agree to some quiet hours?” Joey asks desperately. It’s an olive branch. Seto’s blue eyes look at him, lip curled in disdain.

“How about this,” he says. “When you and your band get good, you can play whenever you want.”

Joey’s chest swells. His shoulders rise. Seto’s wounded his pride. It’s payment for sleepless nights.

“Fuck you,” is what Joey says, and he storms off. Seto waits to hear his door slam across the yard, and he picks the violin back up, and starts playing.

\---

Seto has stayed late talking to a professor about a midterm assignment. He leaves the classroom for the practice rooms and runs straight into Joey Wheeler.

“What are you doing here?” he asks, incredulous.

“I remember where I heard your name,” is all Joey says and he points at a plaque by a long list of donors and alumni.

Seto’s eyes flicker to the name and back to the soft browns of Joey Wheeler. They’re easier to take in than the plaque, which he walks by every day. At least there’s not a picture. He doesn’t think he could walk this way if there were.

“Your dad is in some money,” Joey says.

“Adopted father.” Seto scrapes his teeth over his lip and shakes his head. “I didn’t know they gave degrees in garage bands.”

Joey scowls. “Song writing.”

“Quaint,” Seto says, despite knowing the song writing courses at this school are intense. If he’s in the music program at all, Joey’s got some amount of skill. “At least no one expects you to actually play an instrument.”

“Are you always such an asshole?” Joey asks. “If my daddy paid for my degree, I’d be in a lot better mood.”

Up to this point, Seto’s been playing nice, but Joey’s said the exact right thing to enrage him. He holds his violin case tight and shoves Joey out of the way with the other. The physical contact is enough that Joey also gets heated, he can see it behind his eyes, and there’s a hand curled in his shirt. This isn’t going to end well.

“If you could kindly,” Seto says, voice ice cold, “fuck off. I have places to be.”

Joey realizes what he’s done, and he slowly unfolds his fingers. The act surprises Seto. An all out brawl in the music building is a bad idea, but he’d respect the attempt if it happened. Joey takes a step back, and he leaves before Seto can say anything else to him. The doors to the classrooms are closing as students settle into their seats.

Seto goes to the practice rooms and practices the Ravel until his fingers feel raw.

\---

There’s a party happening next door. This really is the last straw.

Seto goes to the house. He’s not really sure what he can do to stop it. Flip some circuit breakers maybe. A few people are sitting out on the porch, and inside the people are mostly chatting and sharing Coors Light cans. It’s the backyard that’s the real party. The makeshift band is playing to a drunken crowd, who stand around and cheer. The lyrics are original, Seto thinks as he walks across the small lawn. They’re not bad either. Violent, maybe, and goofy. They sing a song about a wizard and a dragon. Seto stands on the edge of the crowd and watches. All the practicing has paid off, he thinks. The band, at least, is cohesive. He wonders if they have a name.

They finish a set, and the crowd cheers. Seto doesn’t clap, but he doesn’t leave either. The speakers are now playing whatever top 40 music is popular as the band takes a break. Joey sees Seto from a distance and leans over to his tall friend. They share a curt conversation that ends when Joey walks towards him.

“What’re you doing here?” he asks

Seto looks around. “You’re having a party.”

“You’re not gonna call the cops on us, are you?” Joey’s eyes are narrowed, and his stance is uneasy. He’s absolutely dripping with sweat, and his voice is hoarse from screaming.

“No,” Seto says.

“Okay.” Joey still eyes him warily. “Good.”

Seto glances away from his gaze to where the others are standing. “I did say if you got good you could play whenever you want.”

To his surprise, a grin stretches across Joey’s face. This one is genuine, beaming with a sunniness Seto didn’t expect. He says, “You think we’re good?”

“The lyrics are,” he says. “Your guitarist still needs work.”

Joey considers him for a moment. The crowd cheers as an old jam comes on, and he shouts over them, “I’m gonna go smoke. Do you wanna come with?”

Seto follows him to the side of the house that faces his. It’s quieter here. The loud beat still reverberates through the street, but the shouting isn’t as bad. Joey lights a cigarette and offers one to Seto, who takes it.

“I’m sorry about the other day,” Joey says.

Seto considers the flame of the lighter before breathing in the smoke. “I haven’t been very nice to you.”

He laughs. “No you haven’t! But you said we were good.”

“Objectively,” he says. “It’s not my taste.”

“What is? Concertos?”

“No.” Seto closes his eyes. “Sometimes I think about quitting that stupid instrument. You think it’s annoying to hear? I have to listen to it every day.”

Joey lowers his eyes. He’s putting pieces together. “You can’t, huh.”

“No,” Seto says.

He nods. They both smoke in silence for a minute, listening to the thumping bass of some 90s song and the shouts of people drunkenly singing along.

“You know,” Joey says, “we’re still working on our sound. You should come over and practice with us sometime. Do a little jam sesh. It could be fun.”

Seto doesn’t respond for a minute. Joey shrinks away, thinking he’s said something wrong. He nurses the end of his cigarette like his wounded pride.

“Fun,” Seto repeats finally in a breath of smoke. “I’ve heard of that.”

He stops and looks at him. Joey’s grinning again. “You should try having some too.”

“I’m sure you can help with that,” Seto says, and Joey laughs.

He forgets his sheet music that night, doesn’t pick up the violin again until tomorrow, and he stays to enjoy the party. Joey clings to him, talking excitedly about his ideas, what he wouldn’t do for a whole string section, and horns, and Seto shoots back just as quickly. There’s no recitation, no line after line from long dead composers, just the two of them talking at a hundred miles an hour.

The band goes back on after midnight. Seto stands in the front row, and he swears Joey’s smiling at him the whole time.


	24. Feather Family (The Long Way to a Small Angry Planet)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At the end of a long journey, two characters reflect on what's different about themselves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is based on Becky Chambers' novel "The Long Way to a Small, Angry Planet", a book I kind of fell in love with and reread pretty recently. It epitomizes found families and shedding expectations, two things I feel are important to what I write for KaiJou, so I thought I'd give place the kids in the universe. No, I couldn't resist making Joey an Aandrisk.

The Fishbowl on the underside of the  _ Slifer _ looked out at the passing stars as they floated by. The small recreation area was crafted for each of the ship’s inhabitants, the long and low couch great for stretching out legs no matter how many, with the walls to the ship covered absolutely in green vinery, planters overflowing with easy flowers that bloomed beneath sun lamps that scattered around on metal poles, currently dimmed. Crates had been drawn in as furniture, and they made tables on which an Aandrisk dice rolling game left out, and cards scattered around from a two person play session that had been abandoned. A heat blanket that belonged to their pilot was draped over the back of the couch, with the spicy snack food wrappers the ship’s tech downed at all times lay in crumpled balls. Someone had kindly swept them towards the small metal trash can, but they hadn’t quite made it in. The vox box played soft music that seemed to grow distant the closer to the bulbous clear window into space.

This was where Seto sat, admiring the view of solar systems passing. He’d come down here with a book that was quickly forgotten. The ship was full of activity today as they headed back to the centralized planets for shore leave. He’d been considering what had happened in the past year since he and his brother had arrived on the ship. How comfortable he was here. The others made plans to visit family, rest up at their favorite moons and trade planets, or spend the next month blazed out of their mind. Seto was staying with the ship. It was his home now, after all.

The door to the Fishbowl slid open, and he heard the familiar click of their pilot’s claws against the metal floor. At least he wouldn’t be alone.

“I was looking for you,” Katsuya said as he hopped over the back of the couch, landing with a plush thump beside him. He immediately nuzzled Seto’s chin and wrapped his arms around him.

“I needed a breather,” Seto said and lifted his hands to Katsuya’s face, pressing his forehead back.

A year ago, Seto doubted he’d accept affection so openly from the Aandrisk, and he didn’t know if Katsuya would give it. He’d been somewhat taken aback by his initial appearance. Despite Aandrisk being a founding species of the Galactic Commons, Seto’s interaction with aliens had been brief and usually from a distance. Katsuya’s face was lizard like, with no ears and two holes for breathing, and when he talked there were flashes of sharp pointed teeth that lined the slit of his mouth. Scales colored dark and dusty red covered his body and faded to black as they moved lower, coloring his tail and legs. But his face was haloed in bright golden feathers that shook out like an unruly mane. 

Katsuya spoke human vowels with a rough accent, and he wore human clothes, and Seto knew he spent more time with humans than Aandrisk, for many reasons he hadn’t quite picked apart yet, but he wasn’t one to judge someone in need of distance from a former life. As soon as their relationship had started, it was like a floodgate had opened. Headbutts, nuzzled greetings, holding him close if they sat for more than a minute, and it extended to Mokuba as well, who received hair ruffles and headbutts the same. Even as they settled close to relax, Katsuya’s bowed legs wrapped around Seto, head rested on his shoulder, so with every rise and fall of his breathing they tickled Seto’s cheek.

“Mokuba and I got a course all plotted out,” Katsuya said. “We wanna go shopping.”

“Spend all that hard earned money.” Seto closed his eyes as he settled against his chest. “I’m sure whatever you come up with will be a good time.”

“Yeah,” he said and huffed out a breath. It ruffled the longer strands of Seto’s hair. “It’ll be quieter on the ship.”

“You’d rather we all be here,” Seto said.

“Feels more like home,” he said.

Seto wormed around, lifting up his hands to hold Katsuya’s face and place a kiss to the rough scales of his cheek. Katsuya hooked a filed claw into the fabric of his shirt.

“Personally,” Seto said, “I’m satisfied with some alone time.”

Katsuya nudged him with his face, and he grinned sheepishly. Gently, he untangled himself from Seto, and he lifted a hand up to his feathered mane, plucking one with a careful pinched claw.

“I really shoulda done this a while ago,” he said and he lifted Seto’s hand up to place the feather in his palm. “I’m not really used to this kinda stuff yet.”

Seto ran his thumb along the thin quill of the feather. It was bright yellow and slightly coarse. He waited patiently for Katsuya to explain.

“It’s just, uh.” His hands spread out, palms curled, and this Seto did recognize. Aandrisk hand speak, for when words weren’t enough. “We’re supposed to give people these when they--to significant people. People who’ve changed you in some way. It shows how many lives you’ve touched. I haven’t done it a lot. I haven’t received a lot, either, but that’s not actually important right now. I just wanted you to know that you are. Significant. To me.”

Seto smiled. “Is there anything I should give you in return?”

“Nah.” Katsuya looked relieved to have it out there. He relaxed again, bended knee pressed to Seto’s. “Mai gave me one of her feathers, but it’s more about me giving it to you.”

“Does everyone have one?” Seto asked.

“No,” he said. “But everyone here counts as family.”

Seto held the feather in his hand, and and he felt for a moment like a cup running over with affection, so full and loved in a way he hadn’t been before. He settled back into Katsuya’s embrace, pleased when his arms pulled around his torso. The stars rolled lazily past.

“Thank you,” Seto said. “I wish I had something that said the same thing.”

“You’ve already said it.” Katsuya curled his arms a little tighter. “You always do.”

There was a lot to do as the ship made its way back to the Central Commons. Courses to be made, things to pack, but neither felt particularly moved to do any of those things. They lay in the comfort of each other’s arms and watched the universe go by.


	25. The Pillager's Stronghold (Pirate)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seto Kaiba attempts a deal with pirates.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do intend to finish these! I had to take a long break to reset and also I got very sick, but I've found some motivation and I'm hoping to get these done by the new year.
> 
> Guns and a minor amount of violence in this one.

Night settled on the Indian Ocean like a smothering blanket. A thick fog rolled in on the jagged rock of the pillager’s fortress, an unnamed island amid the expansive sea. Ships couldn’t dock directly on the island, but a short channel was wide enough for a rowboat to ease through. The evening fog gave the lamps a strange glow, and those that took refuge in the uneasy waters of the stronghold kept to their bars and taverns, drinking and singing and shouting. The noise was suppressed in the soup-like evening.

A tall figure walked through, undisturbed. The long blue coat trailed behind him, and a tricorn hat was pulled down over a fringe of dark hair. He walked steadily forward, shoulders raised, head down, until he came to a smaller place. A ragged curtain served as a door, and the thin light inside couldn’t quite permeate the fog. There was shouting, and the sound of wood breaking. He had to duck down to enter the hovel, and he paused to take in the sight around him.

A small crew took up residence on wood tables, with alcohol being poured from barrels stacked up against the far side of the bar. A meal had been set out and devoured, leaving chicken bones scattered with meat still half-clung to it. A bottle was thrown against the wall, shattering a foul smelling alcohol onto the old wood. There were maybe twelve in all to occupy the space, some already drunkenly sleeping. In the center of the room was a man, tall and broad shouldered and wearing tattered clothes. He laughed with one of his companions before slapping him on the back. His laughter died as he saw they had company, and he leaned back in his chair, kicking his boots up onto the table.

“Well, well, well,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. “Look up, boys. We got a lord joining us tonight.”

Seto Kaiba stepped forward, raising his chin as he did. The crew around him settled back, watching him carefully as he approached the table where the bandit sat. It made for an untidy throne.

“You are Keith Howard, aren’t you?” Seto asked, disdain dripping from his tongue. “I don’t like to waste my time.”

“Sure.” He gave a mock salute. “Bandit Keith, at your service. What can we do for the lord this evening?”

“You have a prisoner.” He reached into his coat and removed a small coin purse before dropping it on the table. The inside shined with gold. “There is a reward for his capture. You’ll hand him over to me.”

Keith leaned forward, his eyes lighting up. The crew men moved around them with interest. Seto felt two move to his back.

“Reward, huh?” Keith beckoned a crewman over. “I didn’t think Wheeler was worth nothing to no one.”

“He’s first mate to the  _ Summoned Skull _ . The navy would like to hear him sing.”

“I’ll bet.” He jerked his head to his compatriot and said, “Get Wheeler out here. I wanna know what this bird is worth.”

Seto’s eyes narrowed as the crewman moved to the back of the hovel through another door. Keith stood from his chair and scooped up the coins, running them through his fingers.

“You know,” Keith said, “last I heard Seto Kaiba had disappeared. He was picked up by pirates and left to some watery tomb.”

“It’s a good thing for you that’s not true,” Seto said.

“But you’re not working with the navy.” Keith inspected a gold piece, turning it over. “These aren’t your coin.”

“If you’re not interested,” Seto said and reached for the bag.

Keith’s hand slammed down on top of his. The two stared each other down before Keith slid the bag away, offering a smile. Behind him was a commotion as two figures came through the door. The crewman that had gone to retrieve the prisoner was pushed against the doorframe as the unruly shape of Joey Wheeler stumbled forward. Heavy manacles held down his wrists, and he staggered on one good leg, his face bruised and bloodstained as his knuckles, but that didn’t stop him from fighting back against the pirate that held him. He was pushed to his knees with a shout, and the crewman struck him in the back of the head. Seto saw his muscles coil and ready for a strike, and then his head came up, and his gaze caught Seto’s. He stopped suddenly. His chest expanded with each heavy pant, and his light colored hair stuck to his sweat stained face. When the crewman grabbed him again, he shot a dark look his way, but he gave no further protest as he was carried forward to Keith’s side.

“He’s in poor condition,” Seto said, eyes flicking to every cut and bruise on his body.

“The dog doesn’t go down easy,” Keith said with a shrug.

Seto’s lip curled, but it was a testament to his control that his fist did not. He returned his gaze to the pirate. “You’ve been paid. I’ll take him now.”

Keith raised a hand to his compatriot. “Hold on. Your navy may have a reward for this grommet, but I think you’d pay a pretty penny more.”

“This is not a negotiation,” Seto said. “If you’re not interested in my generous offer, then I’ll take it back, and we’ll be done. You’ve already said he’s worth nothing. This is a handsome payout for a lousy cargo.”

Joey mouthed the words back to him, an insulted look on his face. Seto kept his eyes focused ahead, where Bandit Keith counted his money. He considered it as the coins dropped one by one back into their bag.

“It’s a fair deal,” he admitted and waved a finger to his boys. “But I think we’d get twice as much turning you over to Lord Pegasus.”

Seto’s shoulders stiffened. Across from him, Joey’s stance shifted as well, and a wariness overtook his limbs. His eyes moved from pirate to pirate. He was counting bodies.

“I think you’d be wrong there,” Seto said. “He wants nothing more to do with me.”

Keith let out a barking laugh. “After you ransacked his home? He’d be happy to watch you dance with the gallows man, and the rest of your crew along with ya. Hell, maybe there is a reward for Wheeler here. Don’t matter too much to me. Lord Pegasus will pay all the same.”

The crew were closing in tighter. Seto’s right foot slid back, his hand hovering towards his belt.

“This is your last chance,” he warned. “Either we both walk out of here, or there’s trouble for your shoddy crew.”

“I don’t think so.” Keith stepped back. “Boys.”

The crew started forward, but it was Joey that moved first, swinging one shoulder up to slam into the crewman holding him before twisting around to barrel into Bandit Keith. The two of them were knocked to the ground as the bodies behind Seto reached out. He turned, hand drawing the marlinspike from his belt and swinging it. He slammed it into the face of the first man before stabbing the pin’s end into the other. On the ground, the fight with Bandit Keith overturned the table, scattering gold coins across the floor, and Seto reached down to drag Joey up by his collar. He yanked him back and pulled from the other side of his belt a pistol. A man lunged forward and stopped suddenly at the sight of the barreled gun. Seto swiveled to threaten another attacker, pulling Joey along as they backed out of the hovel. The curtain lifted over them as they staggered, and as soon as it flopped back down, they were running. From inside there was a shout of “Get them!” before the whole crew exploded out onto the makeshift street.

“You are goddamn shitting me with this rescue!” Joey snapped as he limped behind Seto. The walkway was made of raised planks nailed together to make uneven levels, and he nearly fell on his face as they dropped down, caught only by Seto’s hands. “You couldn’t even bribe  _ Bandit Keith _ ?”

“I’m so sorry!” Seto shouted, shoving him forward as he turned back, firing the single shot of his pistol at a man who raised an axe to them. He dropped. “How was I to know he’d made friends with the man whose life I set to ruin?”

Joey skidded to a stop, nearly slamming into a crate of chickens, but Seto was distracted and tripped immediately into them. Another axe was thrown, and it hit the wooden planks less than a foot in front of them, the handle reverberating with the force. Seto reached down and yanked on it once, twice before he pulled it free, and they were moving again.

Buildings narrowed the space around them, which at least made it more difficult for the brigands that followed them to keep lobbing things in their direction. Following the winding path made by boxed produce and poultry, Seto focused his attention to the docks below where his boat was tied. He started as a pirate dropped in front of him, a short curved blade raised over his head, but Joey didn’t hesitate to bodily throw his weight against him. The pirate shouted as he was thrown to the level below, and Seto grabbed onto Joey’s shirt to swing him back in front. Another pirate leapt at them with a howl, and they both reacted the same as they jolted out of his path. The footing was difficult here, and it was Seto who slipped from the edge of the leveled pier into a slanted shanty roof beneath them, dragging Joey with him. The boards bent beneath their weight, and then they were falling to the floor with a heavy crack. Dust kicked up around them, the boards lay in splintered debris. Seto groaned as he rolled over. Joey was already on his feet.

“Shit,” Joey said. “This isn’t how I wanted to die.”

“They won’t kill us.” Seto picked himself up, dragging the the axe with him as he did. “Though I doubt Pegasus would be too pleased to see me alive. Give me your hands.”

There were shouts from above. Feet pounded on the planks outside. Joey gave Seto a nervous look as gripped the edges of a barrel, stretching the chain across the wood.

“You came here with no backup,” Joey said. “Does the captain even know where you are?”

“He was moving slowly.” Seto huffed up the axe and brought it down against the chain. Joey winced but held steady. “I didn’t know how long Keith would keep you alive.”

He swung again, and this time the chain broke. The metal cuffs still held his wrist, but now he could move. Outside the sounds of vagrants grew louder. A shot fired through the door, and they both looked to it, and then each other.

“I imagine the captain will catch up with us,” Seto said as he removed a second pistol. He handed it to Joey before removing the long blade he kept strapped beneath his coat. “Usually at the most opportune time. He’s got a flair for the dramatic.”

“Oh,” Joey said as he backed behind Seto. “And you don’t?”

There was a heavy thud, and then another, and the door gave in. Seto howled as he barreled forward, swiping at one man with his sword and barely missing a second. Joey chased after. He was a flurry of movement as they forced their way through the oncoming crowd, raising fists and elbows and headbutting one man. A wide berth was given to Seto’s blade, but they were being overwhelmed still. There was narrow room to escape, but Joey saw an opportunity, and he grabbed Seto by the back of his coat and leaped down from the raised platform to the docks below. Seto managed to keep his footing, until Joey heaved forward, his injured leg giving out beneath him. Above them the pirates were still chasing after, and amid them was Bandit Keith, walking serenely through the chaos.

“Gimme a minute,” Joey gasped as Seto urged him to his feet.

“Time we don’t have.” He gestured towards the docks with his sword. “You can rest when we’re safely aboard the  _ Skull _ .”

Joey lifted himself, shoulders trembling, and Seto scooped his arms across his shoulders. He could see the boat ahead of them rocking in the unsteady wake. Keith’s forces had thinned, but pirates still moved towards them. A shot pinged the water beside them, and a blade sliced through the fog. Seto drove forward, blade first, half dragging Joey at his side, and they were at the rowboat’s side. With little time, Seto tossed Joey into the boat before jumping in after him. He saw swirling through the fog the shadows of the crewmen, and then Bandit Keith was standing over them, a pistol raised.

“You know,” Keith said, “it’s really only you I need.”

The shot sounded loud and cracking in Seto’s ear. His heart dropped into the pit of his chest, and he held his sword with the full intent to pay back every injury Joey sustained a hundredfold, before he saw Keith drop, shouting and cursing madly. Beside him, Joey’s hand trembled, and the pistol shook to the boat’s floor. He collapsed back. Seto moved instantly, slamming his sword into the rope and kicking off of the pier. The island disappeared into fog as their boat carried them back through the channel. More gunshots, more shouts, but they died away.

Seto breathed again, and his hand was red from where he’d clutched his sword. Gently, he sheathed it and climbed up to Joey’s side. His eyes were closed, his breathing heavy. He swept his fingers through his hair. Joey stirred, peering up at him through red rimmed and bleary eyes.

“Are you okay?” Seto asked.

“Fantastic,” Joey said.

He groaned as he sat up, a sound lost to Seto’s lips as he pulled him into a kiss. Seto curled his fingers into his sweat crusted hair, and he tasted of sea water and blood, but he didn’t care. Joey was safe. Face a tapestry of bruises and leg injured, but he was safe and in his arms, the only place Seto wanted him to be.

The boat rocked against the channel. Seto sighed, detangling himself from Joey’s embrace, and he picked up the oars to row.

“Do you have a plan past this?” Joey asked as he settled back, eyes closing again. “Or are we now adrift at sea?”

“I think you’d be a little more grateful for my saving your life,” Seto said.

“Rescued from Bandit Keith’s hospitality to be sunk.” His head dipped down. His wrists were still held by the heavy chains. Another marlinspike might fix that, Seto considered.

“I can take us back, if you’re so worried.” Seto guided the boat through the narrow rocks. “I’m sure he’ll be much kinder now that you’ve shot him.”

“Hmm, no, this’ll save us from Pegasus and his private army.” He peeked one eye open, smiling as he did. “I told the captain we never shoulda taken you on board. Bad luck.”

“Such a pity for you that he has.” The channel opened broader, and Seto was relieved to let the tide pull them out. In the distance, he could see ship lights, and a familiar figurehead casting a ghoulish shadow across the water. “You’d be safely in your bed, I think.”

“I think I still will be.” He turned to follow Seto’s gaze and grinned as the  _ Summoned Skull _ came into view. “And with someone to share it too.”

Seto smiled and set to row them home.


	26. Come Together (Communal Living)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Coterie, a communal living space, hosts a party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to explore more of the communal aspect of this when I originally set out to write it, but this is what popped into my head, so I went with it. I wanted to celebrate the return of Good Trouble, the show that inspired this, which I've been desperately dry without. It's a show about 20-somethings getting into trouble in LA and this seemed like a decent enough dip into that world. I feel like there's a ton of backstory in my head not on the page, but hopefully the journey's enjoyable anyway.
> 
> Lots of drinking in this one.

The communal living spaces of the Coterie were, despite the twenty-somethings that occupied its floors, mostly quiet on the day to day. Most of its occupants worked during the day, and the ones who didn’t were sound asleep until the afternoon. Seto Kaiba had found it a surprisingly easy place to live, even after initial worries over shared bathrooms and communal dinners. In the few months he’d lived in his small loft, he’d grown to appreciate it for its quiet, friendly atmosphere.

And then there were nights like tonight, where it seemed like the whole city was crammed into the common space as loud music blared through the speakers. Instead of glasses, whole bottles were passed around to people Seto had never met or seen before. No doubt Tea had put out an invitation on her Instagram, and their apartment manager Mai knew half of San Francisco. Seto hadn’t known about the party before he’d trudged in from another long day of working extra hours at Industrial Illusions. The blare of music caught him off guard as he wavered in the foyer, still in his work clothes.

His loft was on the first floor, which meant he had to shove through the crowd to make his way there. Now he knew how salmon felt fighting to swim upriver. And like the fish meant to meet its end at the sharp swipe of a grizzly bear, Seto was pulled suddenly by a hand on his shoulder.

“You look like a dork!” Tea shouted over the crowd. A pinkness to her cheeks told him she’d already consumed enough alcohol.

“Tea!” Yugi shouted, but he couldn’t suppress a giggle. One hand clung to her arm for fear he might be swept away in the current. “Are you just getting back from work, Kaiba?”

“No,” Seto said dully. “This is just how I dress.”

They both blinked at him, uncertain if it was a joke. They were saved by Mai sauntering closer, a bottle of vodka in one hand and whiskey in the other. She stopped as she saw Seto and let out the disappointed sigh of a mother whose son had shown up with mud on his nice shoes.

“What,” she said loudly, “is the point of me leaving notices on your door if you always ignore them?”

There had been a piece of paper taped to Seto’s door at some point in the past week. Life had become a blur of work, sleep, call Mokuba, work some more, and he couldn’t remember exactly what it’d said. The clip art of music notes and dancing shoes suddenly made a lot more sense.

“That’s not party attire,” Mai said.

“I don’t think you get to define that,” Seto said, feeling more disgruntled. He just wanted to lay down, and people kept pushing him. “I’m not actually attending anyway.”

“Tea,” she said, handing off the vodka to her, “will you tell them to put on mama’s favorite song.”

She gave a mock salute before downing a shot from the bottle. Tea and Yugi disappeared into the crowd while Mai looped an arm around Seto’s shoulder. With half a foot on her, he had to stoop.

“Seto, Seto, Seto,” she said, shaking her head with every mention of his name. “You signed a contract for community living. I understand it’s an adjustment, especially for someone who’s used to having his laundry done for him.”

“I don’t remember parties being on that contract,” he grumbled.

“And normally I wouldn’t tell someone they had to dance to Shakira or chug a Long Island,” she continued, “but since you got here you’ve done nothing but hole up in your room and avoid doing anything that isn’t listed on your lease. You don’t have to put on your party pants, partially because I don’t actually think you own any, but will you at least stay for one song? Maybe even dance with someone? Just to prove you’re interested in this whole community thing.”

Seto sighed. “Is that what I’m proving?”

“Fine, don’t.” She released him, raising a hand in defeat. “But before you go on lock down for the evening, I’ll let you know that Joey will probably be on the dance floor when this song comes on.”

He glared at her. Mai only shrugged her shoulders. The music did shift, from one pop song to another. The first few electronic notes of Britney Spears’  _ Work Bitch  _ had the crowd pushing towards the makeshift dance floor. Seto sighed and took the proffered bottle of whiskey, swigging on it and doing his best to keep a straight face even as the burn hit the back of his throat. Mai took it back from him before going to join the others.

With the whole of the party compacted on the dance floor, it was even harder to worm his way through. Seto managed to catch up with Yugi and Tea, who seemed delighted that he was staying. They could see the other inhabitants of the Coterie among the dancers: Malik, who only ever left his room for these exact occasions; Ryou, who stood awkwardly to the side until Yugi grabbed both his arms and pulled him into their circle; even Rex, who only ever emerged from his room in both a haze of marijuana and academic panic. Despite the whole of the Coterie on display, there was no long mane of blond hair rising above the crowd, nor Joey’s telltale laughter amid the noise. More bottles were passed around, and Seto quickly lost count of what he took and what he passed on. The music kept going past Mai’s song, more heavy beats and high voiced singers that everyone screamed the words along with. 

Seto escaped the thrall of the dance floor to find a glass of water. His usual clean and crisp clothes were quickly undone with the motion and the heat forced him to roll the sleeves up. The whole first floor felt overheated with the bodies and movement. He fumbled in the fridge for a water bottle, but even that didn’t bring relief. Voices carried as they headed up to the roof of the building, and in the firm decision making that came with drinking, he followed after, craving fresh air.

The evening was cool, and the first touch of breeze on his cheeks was sobering. He stood for a moment in the doorway, the heat dissipating off him like steam. A pool took up the middle space of the roof, and a few people sat with their feet dipped in the water while others looked over the edge wall to the city around them. Bright lights were fuzzy in Seto’s vision, so he turned away to a darker corner of the roof, a triangle of shadow falling from behind the equipment shed. He drank his water and leaned against the wall.

It took until the first scent of cigarette smoke hit his nose that he realized he wasn’t alone. Pressed against the corner of the shed and the wall, Joey sat cross legged on the stone roof, a cigarette between his lips, his jacket tugged closer around his chest. They looked at each other for a moment before Joey said, “Hey.”

Seto, who was realizing how drunk he actually was, replied, “Hey.”

They both said nothing for a long minute. The beat downstairs changed, and Seto could feel it through the roof, through the soles of his feet. It made him unsteady.

“I thought you’d be downstairs,” Seto said.

Joey smiled, stretching out his legs. The knee of one of his jeans was torn. While not a particularly erotic part of the human body, Seto found himself distracted by the exposed tan skin anyway.

“Not really my scene tonight,” he said. “A little surprised it’s yours.”

Seto nodded. “Mai convinced me.”

He laughed out smoke. “I’m avoiding her for the same reason. She’ll get on me for moping.”

“Are you?” Seto asked, and when he looked at him, he clarified, “Moping?”

Joey shrugged his wide shoulders. “Maybe.”

Against his better judgement, Seto stooped down to join him on the rough floor of the roof. It wasn’t particularly comfortable, and the cigarette smoke tickled his nose, but Joey settled to offer him room. It seemed a strange role reversal for the pair of them. Usually Joey was all energy, needling Seto until he grew frustrated, while Seto went limp so the others were forced to drag him along.

“It’s possible,” Seto said, remembering all the times his housemates had done exactly that, “that a little fun would lighten your mood.”

“It’s possible.” He stubbed out the end of his cigarette, leaving a grey ash stain across the red brick. His smile was still there, a little softer than usual. In the dim of the evening he seemed subdued.

“You have spent so much energy on forcing me out,” Seto said, and he realized how close they were sitting, Joey’s warmth bleeding through where their shoulders made contact. “Now I can repay the favor.”

Joey laughed again. Seto was close enough to see the freckles that dusted the bridge of his nose and the twin black piercings on either earlobe. He was close enough to smell the layers of cigarette smoke that stacked like layers of rock, close enough to smell the sweat that lingered on his skin from his day job as a courier. He was close enough to swallow Joey’s laughter with a kiss, one that landed askew on his parted lips and was followed by an exhale and the tilt of Joey’s head as he tried to fix the angle. Seto hooked a finger in the collar of his shirt. His skin was cool where Seto felt heated.

And then Joey pulled away, still laughing. Seto’s finger slipped from his shirt.

“You are drunk,” Joey said.

“No,” Seto said and admitted, “Yes. But--”

Joey was already standing, and he extended a hand to him. “Come on.”

The alcohol stuck the truth to the roof of Seto’s mouth as he tried to get the words out. Yes, he was drunk, but he wasn’t when he watched Joey trek back to his room after the end of a long morning, wiping sweat from his brow and fanning himself with his shirt. He wasn’t when they sat beside each other at the dinner table at Mai’s mandatory meals and he felt his knee bounce against his and his elbow prod into his space all the time. He wasn’t when he found Joey also staying up late in the common area, curled up in one of the overstuffed chairs, stealing the time he had to do things he loved. He just happened to be now at the moment he felt brave enough to do what he’d dreamed of for months.

It was a cruel fate that this state meant Seto could do what he wanted but couldn’t explain that he wanted it. He took Joey’s hand and was lifted up to his feet. A moment later the warmth of his grip disappeared.

“Let’s go be social,” Joey said, nodding his head towards the staircase.

Seto had no choice but to follow. They headed back to the music and the drinking and the camaraderie of the party, which all felt just a little bit emptier. But Joey’s arm hooked around his shoulder dragged him back into the ring with the others. Tea immediately grabbed his arms, pulling him into a dramatic routine set to Demi Lovato’s  _ Confident _ while Yugi and Joey wiggled together. Mai danced over, placing a flower behind each of their ears before sashaying away. No one questioned where she got a bouquet from. It felt like that sort of night.

It was a testament to the evening that Seto had nearly forgotten the kiss happened at all, not until he collapsed into his bedsheets and closed his eyes. His lips tingled at the memory, his fingertips still feeling the pressure and the warmth of his chest. It was the last thing he felt as he slipped into a dead sleep, praying tomorrow they all believed it’d been a particularly lucid dream.


	27. Valley of Giants (Cyberpunk)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joey and Seto take a journey through Battle City.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was struggling with what to do for the cyberpunk AU, but luckily my friend [October](https://archiveofourown.org/users/saggiclowns/pseuds/saggiclowns) (the real ideas person) was already developing a cyberpunk AU they lovingly refer to as Battle City 1999. Fiddling with that and looking at pictures of abandoned places led me to this, which is a lot less cyber but I'm giving myself a pass because I really want to finish these.
> 
> There's probably some backstory worth sharing, but the most important things to know are 1) Battle City is the ruin of an old stadium (think abandoned Olympics compounds), 2) the Earth is dying, 3) Seto is sneaking in under a false name.

Seto wasn’t sure exactly what had driven him to join Joey on his errands this day. He found the more time spent in Battle City, the more he wanted to see of it, including its inhabitants. Already the entanglements he’d made here had shown him much of what the makeshift city had to offer, and when Joey’d found him in the arcade trying to beat Duke’s newest high score, he’d prodded him out of the space, claiming the dark room and neon lighting weren’t doing anything for his pale complexion. The air outside wouldn’t be anymore helpful, but he admitted the need for company.

This was how Seto came to be walking down the cracked and uneven concrete on a hot day with no idea where they were going. Joey’d made a few stops before going into a corner store whose roof was beneath a large gloved hand that belonged to one of the cartoon characters that once decorated Battle City. The purple was faded and scratched, turning the same grey as the building it now roofed. Joey’d purchased two pre-packaged sandwiches and two Kaiba Colas, which were now safely rested in a plastic bag he’d slung over his shoulder. Seto watched his easy strides.

He’d spent a lot of time comparing Joey to a dog thanks to his excitable energy and inability to sit still (and for the fact that it riled him up when he did, and he could spend hours watching that animated face sputter through his many expressions), but in this moment he reminded Seto more of the street cats that populated the many corners of the ruined city. The ones that treated the concrete landscape as any jungle, who seemed as comfortable there as they would curled up on someone’s windowsill, who knew every corner and shortcut. His easy confidence had always been annoying to Seto, but here it proved his element.

Joey paused as they came to a large stretch of a grey blocks. This had to be the central structure that had made up Battle City. High above them two angled roofs jutted out into the pink sky like wings, casting shadows across the apartments and shops that were built into the remains. The section of block was crumbling, the wall not maintaining enough to hide an interior made of crossbeams that made long lines of rectangles. The uniformity of pattern was pleasing to Seto, even if the decay was prominent. Joey looked at Seto with a grin, nodding to the exposed belly.

“Come on,” he said. “I know a shortcut.”

“Through there?” Seto asked and raised a dubious eyebrow.

“Yeah.” He pulled him by the arm into the short alley that ended in the exposed lattice. “It’s cool, trust me.”

Seto did not, and he only watched as Joey slipped a leg through the opening and dropped inside with practice ease. Looking out through the opening, Seto felt even more like the cat description fit him. He was curled into the small space, brown eyes staring out at him, with that idiot grin on his face. Seto sighed, ducking close but not following after.

“This is very stupid,” Seto said.

“Perfect for you then.” Joey extended a hand to him. “Come on. I wanna show you something.”

Seto stared at the hand. He reached out, folding his palm over Joey’s, whose fingers held tight to him as he guided him through the thin slats of metal. His long limbs struggled to fit through, but after only a minor amount of wringing and pulling, they dropped a short ways onto a concrete floor. The walls on either side had once been rose colored, or maybe they’d been red and faded away, but mold burned black holes against the concrete, and grey streaks marred its surface. They were in a room, wide and open. Rusted metal chairs had toppled over onto the floor, and tables leaned beneath their own weight. A long bar meant to hold hot plates was empty, the glass over it clouded. A skittering sound signalled the rats were aware they had company. They fled from the intruders.

Joey dragged Seto forward another foot before releasing him. Seto studied the old walls and high ceilings before following Joey’s gaze down. The cafeteria had open windows that showed stadium seating, most of which was flooded. Green water filled the stadium up, algae growing in large clumps on the top, and beneath was the flash of gold and pink. Koi fish, he realized. He could see them coming to the surface and then flitting away. Hundreds of them, like a jeweled mosaic hidden beneath muddy water. He leaned forward to stare. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Joey grinning.

“Pretty neat, right?” he said.

Seto stepped back, following the curve of the wall. “You found this?”

He shrugged, keeping a pace behind. “No one can use the stadium. Some of the office parts are okay, but it’s mostly flooded and crumbling. No one comes here, except sometimes I see people fishing in the water.”

Seto frowned. “You think it’s safe?”

“I don’t think anything around here is,” Joey said. “But you can’t blame ‘em for trying. Follow me.”

Joey raced ahead, and Seto had no choice but to do as he requested. Past the cafeteria, the stadium crumbled more, leaving a large gap between the upper deck. Joey only used the shop front below to make his way down to the floor beneath. Seto was less practiced than he, and it took him a moment to find his footing on the overhang. An ancient neon sign was half-broken, but he could make out the characters on it. A souvenier shop. As he carefully joined Joey on solid ground again, he peered through the clouded glass. The door was locked, but he could see things inside.

“I’m amazed how untouched it is,” he said.

Joey shrugged. “Like I said, no one really comes here. It’s dangerous in some places.”

“Not here though,” Seto said, noting the wall of rubble left from when the upper floor collapsed.

He only laughed, and continued to drag him along. This time Seto freed his arm from his grip. He’d been distracted enough earlier, but he shouldn’t let Joey get any ideas about familiarity.

“You use this as a shortcut?” Seto asked as they followed the path away from the stadium lake. While it took up the center of the city, there was no way to cut across without a boat, and the perilous walkways made traversing it seem the harder option.

Joey shrugged as he stuffed his hands into his jacket pockets. “When the street’s really crowded, it’s easier to walk through here. Especially if I’m making deliveries. Especially when I’m walking around at night. No one stops you in here.”

“I’d think this place would be a little  _ scary  _ for you.” Seto leaned close to Joey’s ear and was pleased at the startled jump it earned. He ignored the beads of sweat that forced his blond curls to stick to his skin. “You told me you aren’t a fan of the dark.”

“I’m not a fan of getting jumped either.” Joey knocked his knuckles against Seto’s arm. “Not that I like coming this way when the sun’s down. It’s fucking spooky. I thought you’d like this guy.”

He bound ahead to a statue that was welded into the wall. Seto wrinkled his nose as he recognized the loose shape of Funny Bunny. The pink rabbit hooked two fingers in his cheeks and pulled them out into a manic smile, red eyes pushed together in the center. His whole body exuded the cartoonish bendiness with his bent legs and curled ears. He’d clearly been put here to take pictures with, but now the pink and red had faded away, and the grin was a mask of some horrible thing. The height of the thing was taller than Seto, and the statue was bent to greet them with his smile. Seto stared the rabbit down.

“It’s hideous,” Seto said.

Joey snorted a laugh and said, “Yeah.”

“Imagine in a thousand years,” Seto said, “when humanity is dead, and aliens are uncovering our ruins. They’ll find this.”

Joey kept laughing. “What do ya think they’ll say about ol’ Funny Bunny?”

“Some sort of ancient deity.” He wiggled his fingers at Joey, adopting an appropriately spooky voice. “We fed children to him as a sacrifice.”

“Oh no!” He leaned against the dirt covered wall, holding his sides. “This whole place is gonna look like a madhouse to them. What’re they gonna do with an eighty foot Dark Magician?”

“Call it our high priest.” Seto reached up, flicking Funny Bunny on the nose. “Pegasus is constantly trying to build a monument to be remembered by, and look how quickly it fades away.”

Joey only shook his head, and he pushed off the wall, motioning for Seto to follow him. More rubble made the pathway uncertain, and one of the shops had shattered windows. Battle City memorabilia remained inside, most of it turned brown and water damaged. Joey forced open an employee entrance which was rusted over red, and they walked single file down a thin hallway. When they pushed open the next door, the air smelled less musty and stale, and the outside breeze that hit was almost refreshing. They were at another part of the stadium, tall towers on either side of the small venue meant to mimick castle walls. The curved interior was tiled, with pieces falling off and shattered on the ground. They made a mosaic of roses and a princess in the center of it, faceless with spirals of gold hair, now faded to a dirty blond. Joey reached down, picking something up from the grime and turning it over in his hands. It was a pressed penny, long since eroded and nearly completely green. He held it up to Seto’s face, who shoved his hand away.

The real attraction was not the mural. This was meant to be a stage area, Seto guessed, and the center of it remained an old set. Water had flooded in here as well, less lively than the main lake, but he could see things moving beneath the murk. A walkway went around the seating and made a bridge to the central platform, which featured a dragon rising out of the water. It was red and yellow, jaw open wide to the air, and a clawed arm curled around the stage like it was clutching it close to its serpentine chest. Frills opened around its jaw and behind its eyes, and its body curved around, swirling into the water to disappear. It was huge, the top of its maw reaching over the walls of the stage area. The air was thick with the stench of water and greenery. Seto wished momentarily for a face mask, but Joey didn’t seem bothered at all as he stepped onto the raised platform, looking at Seto to see if he would follow.

“I thought you’d like it,” Joey said at his appreciative stare.

Seto stepped a foot onto the platform. Like so many things, it was made of concrete, and like so many things, it didn’t look stable. What was left of the railing wobbled beneath his touch. Below, drips of water sent ripples through the man made pond. Joey crossed easily, and Seto wasn’t about to be made a coward.

The walkway came to a short door meant for employees to get in and out of. Ducking under revealed the interior of the dragon: a spiral staircase they were in the center of. Its bottom rungs disappeared into muddy water, but Joey started up. Seto had already reached the extent of his physical activity for the day, but he kept up. It was a short walk anyway, and then they were standing in the dragon’s mouth. Joey kicked the dirt away before dropping down into a cross legged sit. He carefully unwrapped the plastic bag and removed their lunch.

“Best spot in all of Domino,” he said.

Seto didn’t reply as he walked to the edge of the dragons maw. Pointed teeth raised up in front of him and he could see over the wall into the town around them. Shops and homes and little stands people made to sell what they had. He thought of the view from his office, so high in the air, with only the neon lights to color the white buildings around him, the light pollution and smog too thick to see stars. He couldn’t see any people from there, he could barely see the hover vehicles that sped past. It felt so many times like he was the only person left in the world.

Too much noise here, too many people, all crammed together. From this vantage point he could still hear people shouting and see the rust bucket cars go past. And behind him, Joey sat, wrestling with the plastic cover for his sandwich. He’d never felt alone in Battle City.

Seto joined Joey at his side. Silently, he pinched the corner of the triangle package and pulled, removing it easily. Joey glowered at him before shoving the other meal into his hands. He cracked open the KC Cola. Seto left his.

“It’s pretty good, right?” Joey asked, mouth full of pork, tomato, and sliced egg.

Seto picked the tomato off his. The taste was fine, it was the texture he struggled with. He chewed it thoughtfully and swallowed before asking, “Is this a popular lunch spot for you?”

Joey nodded. “Best part of running all over this place is finding spots like this.”

They were sitting close enough that their knees touched. Seto considered moving and found he was comfortable where he was. Joey swigged his soda and wiped the carbonation from his lips. He finished his sandwich in only a few bites, and he stuffed the plastic back into the bag. Seto realized how hungry he was too. He’d done more activity today than he ever did behind his desk at Kaiba Corp. His feet hadn’t started hurting yet, but he could feel it starting like a pulse through his soles. Tomorrow he’d be tired, he didn’t doubt it. But when wasn’t he?

“What about you?” Joey asked.

Seto concentrated on peeling the crust from his bread. “What about me?”

“You gotta have a cool spot you like to go.”

“The arcade,” he answered simply, and after a moment of thought he added, “The greenhouse.”

Joey shook his head. “You’re so  _ mysterious _ . I don’t even know where you live in Battle City. We should have a party at your place.”

“No,” he said.

“Come on!” Joey stretched out, deliberately throwing his weight against Seto’s. “I wanna see your place! I bet it’s all neat and organized. Do you make your sheets every morning? Nah, you’re so pragmatic I bet you’re just like ‘they’re gonna get messed up again.’”

Seto huffed out a laugh. “And you make yours every time.”

“‘Course,” he said, pressing his smug face up at him. “ _ Some _ of us have  _ class _ .”

That made Seto smile. “You certainly have more class than 99% of the people I deal with in a day.”

He looked up, and Joey’s grin took up all of his vision. He was close enough that he could see the freckles that dotted his face like constellations, and how the brown of his eyes was a little more gold depending on how the light hit them. He kept his hair back in a ponytail, but it couldn’t quite hold the thick strands, leaving waves that framed his face. He was, at times, overwhelming to look at. Seto found it easier to focus on the bridge of his nose, or the tips of his ears, or the corners of his mouth where they pulled up into a smile. Seto stared down a hundred people in a day. His gaze was more deadly than his famed dragon’s. And somehow, every time, Joey matched him. There was a challenge there too. Seto’s stare brought down people who thought they were bigger than him, tougher. He suspected Joey used his just the same.

But at the moment, his eyes were warm and light. His good mood was infectious. It warmed Seto’s cheeks. Joey’s gaze flicked to his mouth, and Seto knew what was happening as it was happening. The air between them crackled like a static charge, and then Joey’s lips were against his. It was a soft kiss, the lightest brush to Seto’s skin, but it spread heat like an electric lamp across his face. Seto leaned into it, seeking to feel the firmness of Joey’s lips. It was a hesitant thing, more a question than an answer. When Joey pulled back, his grin had softened. Bright spots appeared at his cheekbones. Seto wished his hands weren’t covered in crumbs, so he could smooth his thumb across them and feel the flush on his face.

“Anyway,” Joey said, turning his head, and a thrill went through Seto to find him suddenly sheepish. “You should move in here.”

“Here,” Seto repeated.

“It screams you.” He splayed his hands out at the maw of the dragon. “It’s central to the city, and once we get a bed up here it’ll be just as nice as any apartment.”

“The statue of Funny Bunny can murder me in my sleep,” Seto said.

He laughed at that. “I’ll get you a neon sign that says ‘Kai’s Place’, so we all know where to go.”

Seto frowned, drawing away. Right. Joey hadn’t kissed Seto, he’d kissed  _ Kai _ , a fabrication made up on the spot. He didn’t know that Seto didn’t live in Battle City, didn’t know that he drove his junker back to a garage on the east side of Domino to sit beside all his other vehicles. He thought Seto slept on the same stiff board mattresses that survived in Battle City in the same rat trap apartments made up of four walls and not much else, that he worked whatever job kept him in tokens for the arcade. When Seto’s penthouse could fit one of the apartment blocks comfortably inside, and if he wanted seafood he didn’t have to fish it out of a sludged up lake. It was delivered, hand prepared by a trained chef, and beautifully presented to him on a ceramic plate.

And if Joey knew who he really was, he’d hate him.

Seto wrapped up the last of his sandwich and slid the soda to Joey. He blinked as Seto stood.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Tired,” Seto said. “And it’s probably better to head back before it’s late.”

“Yeah, okay.” Joey stared at him, his smile falling away.

He picked up the last of the trash, and they both made their way back down the dragon’s spine. They didn’t go back the way they came, instead opening a door that led to an alley that led to a side street. They were both quiet as they walked, Joey’s mouth twisted up. Seto kept his expression neutral. A vein was pounding against his forehead, from the activity or stress, he couldn’t be sure.

They returned to the arcade. Seto immediately headed to his junker, but Joey stepped in front of him.

“Hold out your hand,” he said.

Seto frowned. “Why?”

“Just do it.”

With an exaggerated sigh, Seto extended his palm. Joey made a motion at him, and he put his other hand over his eyes. He felt Joey’s knuckles press against his hand, the skin rough and warm. He placed something thin there, and when Seto looked it was the pressed penny from earlier. He realized, as he peered through the patina that covered it, that the center character was Saggi. He scratched at it with the nail of his thumb.

“Not as cool as a dragon,” Joey said, “but I know you like clowns.”

Seto steadied a glare at him. “And how do you know that?”

“Because I pay attention, dummy.” He tapped his own forehead. “And you’re always playing that haunted amusement park game.”

“I’m good at it,” he said, a little smug.

“Plus you got a keychain on your keys.” He pointed to it. The Kaibaland logo was small, and instead of the signature dragon, Saggi hugged it. A limited edition run some years ago. Seto had kept one for himself.

“Anyway,” Joey said. “Thanks for hanging out today.”

Seto’s mouth formed the words, and it was only mildly uncomfortable when he said, “Thank you.”

Joey’s grin returned in full force. Seto clutched the penny in his hand, distracted by how warm it was.

“See ya next time,” Joey said with a wave, and he skipped back inside the arcade, leaving Seto alone on the street still holding the penny. His nails were grimy from climbing the architecture, his legs ached, and his head hurt. He wanted a bath and to lay in the dark.

Seto also wanted Joey to show him more. He held up the penny like a deep sea diver finding sunken treasure. It burned with Joey’s body heat. He should chuck it into the filthy water and watch a koi swallow it whole. Instead he pocketed it, held out his keys, and walked to his car.

He left Battle City behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The dragon they hang out in is based on the [Ho Thuy Tien water park](https://www.atlasobscura.com/places/ho-thuy-tien) which I've become mildly obsessed with please look at how cool it is.


End file.
